Interlude 3 - Recovery
by Wedjatqi
Summary: ALLIANCE FIC – As the dust settles following the events of 'Not To Have or To Hold', the Alliance celebrates one of its greatest victories over the Wraith and the start of new relations with Atlantis, but in the Ancient City not everything is so certain. COMPLETE
1. The Aftermath of Destruction

**Title:** Interlude 3 - Recovery  
 **Chapter:** 1 – The Aftermath of Destruction  
 **Part** : 1/?  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Warnings:** AU world, mild violence, slight sexual content, and, of course, some angst.  
 **Disclaimers** : I earn no money from this, I write only for pleasure. I own no part of the Stargate world, only the characters that I create for myself.  
 **Spoilers** : Set in established AU world, set in equivalent time as late season 3 – just after the episode "Sunday". This story calls heavily on the events of the previous fics in this saga and leads the way to the next big fic.

 **Note:** Hello everyone – if people are still out there reading Atlantis fic! Thank you for the nudges and interest from people about this new fic. I have been writing nonstop since the end of the last fic, but life is busy and, again, I wanted to make sure I had the whole story in draft format before I started publishing. I don't want to let anyone down with an unfinished fic. Saying that, this is one of the Interlude fics, so a stepping stone of sorts ready for the next real big fic. But first, let's see how everyone is doing after the big events in 'Not To Have or To Hold'. After all, we left John and Teyla in a rather unresolved place...

 **Note2:** Quick shout out to the group on FB, and to Camy – I promised I would get it up soon

000000

 **Chapter 1 – The Aftermath of Destruction**

 _Just Outside Alliance Territory_

The silence and emptiness was difficult; Very difficult.

Among his kind, he knew he was strong, intelligent and able, yet, even he was struggling.

The empty space where _her_ presence had lived was almost too much to bear. Her constant presence had always lingered on the exterior of his mind, providing sustenance, meaning to his existence, and clear leadership. Now all there was in that space was emptiness.

Cold, lonely, emptiness.

But, this was the not the first time he had been through this. He had lost his first Queen many thousands of years ago, during the final battles over the skies above Atlantis.

He had been fortunate that another Queen had given him immediate sanctuary, had given him purpose and belonging again. Not many would have done so with his differences. But, he had found a home again, had served his new Queen with dedication and worship...and now she too was lost.

Murdered by the uprising of cattle.

His glorious Queen had been wise, giving to her Hive, and had been forward thinking as one of the founders of the Queens' Gathering. And a glorious gathering it had been; Hives working together, intelligent minds combining to set root in a solar system entirely their own. Never had such an event happened before among their kind. Lost and abandoned Warriors and Drones had joined the gathering, their own pain and loss fulfilled with purpose once more. Purpose led by a gathering of powerful Queen minds.

But all of that was now lost.

He had witnessed the start of the brutal attack by the enemy from the forward station of the Cruiser his Queen had placed under his personal leadership. It had been an honour, especially for him, to lead his own ship and that position was what had saved him.

His distant Hive, his Queen inside it, had been one of the first to face down the approaching enemy, their ships lining up outside the gathering's defensive line.

None had expected what had happened next – ships and bases losing power and communications in an instant and then detonations on each planet, ripping apart and destroying everything that had been built.

Out on the far edge of the solar system, he had watched from the Cruiser with dread – predicting what was fast occurring.

His Hive, his Queen, far away on the frontline had been one of the first to engage the enemy. Within moments her ship had been destroyed, targeted in fiery death, her mind screaming her last command to avenge her and their kin.

He could still feel that horrific moment of her death, followed by the still lingering quiet where her mind had used to touch his. All those around him felt the same since that moment, the other ships he had convinced to run with him had lost their own Queens and Hives, as had the many fighters lost out and alone in the stars that he had packed into the ships' bays. Their new weak gathering of Warriors and Drones were lost, depressed with lonely anger, and none knew what to do.

So, he had led the way, ordered a route that took the small group of damaged ships away from the battle, but not with it to their backs. He predicted that the enemy would chase them once the battle was over, and he had to protect those surviving, so he had ordered a course running close to the enemy's own territory instead.

The territory of the cattle that had somehow risen up: the Armoured Herd.

The others in the group thought him mad for this course, but that was not new to him, and besides, the aching hurt of their lost Queens gave them little more than weak protests. The shock of the attack, the losses, it was all an aching emptiness in them.

He had no idea how to fix that currently, but he knew the first step was to ensure that he kept this group alive and gave their ships time to heal.

And it would give him time to think, because that was what he was so very good at doing.

He had been hatched thousands of years ago during the height of the war against the old Lanteans, but he had been part of a mutated batch. He was not sure if his first Queen had been experimenting in some way, or if there had been some contamination, but most of his hatch had been weak, physically mutated and had been killed quickly. But a few of them, him and three other brothers, had been allowed to live. What had gone cruelly wrong with the rest of their hatch, had formed unique intelligence and enduring body in him and his three brothers, and fortunately their Queen had recognised what they could offer her.

He had been the last of the entire hatch to be birthed, and since had always lingered in hibernation cycles far longer than most, which had resulted in his given name: Long Sleep. His two Queens had allowed him those long hibernation sleeps though, for after those long rests he would often emerge with new ideas on ship systems and weapons potential. He had been greatly fortunate that he had been spared an early death and able to explore the depth of his strange ideas and thoughts.

Of the three of his hatch brothers who had also been allowed to live, two had been killed in battle against the Lanteans of old. Whereas his third brother still lived somewhere, but his mind was shut down and away, as if he were imprisoned somewhere dark and alone.

Which left Long Sleep, the clearest of mind, leading these tattered remains of his kin.

And the pain lingered inside – another Queen lost, murdered, and the empty echoing of silence where her mind had once been.

All he could do for now was keep this collection of survivors alive, to keep them moving in the vast expanse of space.

Lost and lonely.

0000000

 _The Former Wraith-held Nest System_

Burnt desiccated remains surrounded her, ash drifting in the low oxygenated air, smoke still rising in the distance.

Some pieces of buildings still stood far in the distance, but here, closer to the centre of where the generator had detonated, little remained.

Behind the seal of her glass mask Teyla could not hear the debris crunching under her boots, but she could feel it. It gave away in pieces under her, a mix of burnt organic Wraith matter and ash, as she moved onwards towards the centre of the detonation point.

For several days now she had been assisting in searching all of the planets and moons in the former Nest System, seeking out any Wraith that might have survived and lay in hiding. The few that had been found had been on two of the moons, and Si had been the Seeker to hunt them out.

Teyla had been able to tell from orbit that this last planet held no life except her and the Military scanning vessel that was circling overhead, scanning deep into the planet to ensure there were no buried Wraith bunkers. Teyla was certain there were none. There was no hint of the cold sharpness of a Wraith mind close by.

Nothing living remained on this world.

If the generator had not exploded with enough force to flatten a continent, the barrage of the battle from orbit had done the rest. The planet had burned bright and fast in the scans she had studied from the battle. As the undetected buried generator had blown, a fireball had lit up the sky of this planet and the fire had raged outwards, the atmosphere itself fuelling the growing destruction.

That had been days ago, but Teyla could see the thin plume of smoke ahead of her, the centre of the detonation where the intense blaze still had some embers glowing.

She climbed up and over a dust and ash covered lump and stepped down and under a temporary archway that was formed by two burnt twisted pieces of Wraith structure, and finally reached the edge of the crater.

The crater left by the explosion of the generator had appeared large from the orbital scans, and even larger from the scanning vessel when she had flown over it a short while ago, but standing on the edge of it now...

She could hear her own breathing loud inside her mask as she scanned the vast wide hole in the planet's crust.

Leaning closer to the crumbling edge, she peered down into it. Debris littered the inside, a landscape of falling rock, mountains of ash, and twisted broken shapes.

This explosion had helped win the battle for the system, but the destruction...

Teyla had no love for the Wraith, none at all, but to see such devastation. So much death and ruin, it made her fear that this war had turned humanity into something horribly lost.

If there had been any plant or small animal life living among the Wraith's grown structures on this planet, there was nothing left of them now. There was only this horror of obliteration and a planet that would perhaps take generations to recover.

The scanning vessel flew by again, the rushing movement of the air stirring up the ash around Teyla as she watched the vessel pass overhead.

She had to wonder if there would ever come a day when these scenes would stop.

Could there truly ever come a day when there would be no more war?

When no shivers of destructive power would haunt landscapes like this one anymore?

Perhaps even a life in which she never had to be a part of such things.

0000000

 _Atlantis_

It was late in the City.

The lights were lowered, most were in their beds, while those awake were hard at work. Some of those were in the main Infirmary, but even they moved quietly in respect of the night.

The soft tones of those working the Infirmary tonight drifted in through the open doorway into Carson's private room. The only light emanating in on him glowed through that doorway at the foot of his room, down the far length of his hospital bed.

To help with his injuries, to help the fluids and swelling of the vast areas of burnt skin, the head of his bed was always raised. In the reclined position, he was always facing that open doorway looking into the light of the Infirmary beyond.

He couldn't see much through that sliver of a view, but it glowed with light and efficient, kind voices. Nurses and personnel constantly crossed into his view and out of it again just as quickly.

Plenty of people had been visiting through the door during the daylight hours, Rodney practically spending every waking hour at Carson's bedside. And twice a day, like clockwork, Carson had to undergo his treatment.

The Elite had sent one of the top Doctors, or 'Healers' as they referred to them, the woman quiet but professional as she talked to him. She and Keller washed him twice a day and the Elite Healer smeared a strong smelling thick ointment over his burns. It wasn't as painful an experience as he had expected, but then his medical brain knew that was not a good sign. The burns to the left side of his body, waist up, covering his left arm and over the left side of his head and face, had been deep enough to have killed his nerve endings. It meant he wasn't in as much pain as he could be, not that he was in anyway comfortable, but it wasn't a good sign really.

The Elite ointment was working though, he could see the changes already in his skin, but it was a removed observation that he numbly absorbed as he nodded along with Jennifer and the Healer's quiet comments.

He appreciated their work, but was grateful once the daily ordeals were over, and he was back lying reclined in his hospital bed, staring at the open doorway.

But, it was the night-time, like now, that he preferred.

He was left alone, no chattering around him, no pity or whispered worries. In the darkness of his room at night he could watch that doorway...

...and let the ghosts haunt him.

00000  
TBC


	2. The Hope of Distraction

00000

 **Chapter 2 – The Hope of Distraction**

 _Alliance Planet - Sula_

Sula's Portal City was hardly the prettiest of settlements in the daytime, but in the thick of night, rain and wind in the air, it was ugly as sin.

Which was appropriate, as it was sin that had brought Oneakka here.

Sula was set deep in Alliance territory, close to the Central Planets that had first formed the Alliance. As the Central Planet had first struck, battling back the Wraith from their local area of space, Sula had quickly found itself in safe territory from the Wraith. Quick to jump in with the Alliance and benefit from its protection, Sula had lived in safety for a very long time now.

As a result, it had built up quick and fast. The Portal City had grown up in tall, thick-walled towering buildings of concrete and steel, with hundreds of thousands of civilians all living tightly together. The close living had only sprawled outward in the decades since, with Portal City now one of the largest populated settlements in the Alliance.

From those first days of protection here, people had flocked in to live in the city, and had been welcomed. But, as expected, the less savoury types had moved in too and had set up camp in the tightly pressed concrete buildings of Portal City. City battles had been common in the first years, different groups vying for power, but once the Alliance had been properly established and Enforcement had been formed, the crackdown on crime on Sula had been intense.

It had supposedly worked too, but the new intell said different.

According to Seeal's Dreamstation database, Sula was still a hotbed of crime and sleaze, so it was hardly surprising to Oneakka that Division had tracked down one of the most wanted from Toshka's database to Portal City.

But Robiah and his Division lackeys hadn't had enough evidence or guts to actually come and collect the wanted man – Zau.

Zau appeared to have been working with Toshka, though the details of his exact role weren't all that clear from the database Oneakka had helped extract from Toshka's office.

Yet, Division weren't prepared to head into Portal City and pull Zau out and into custody. Apparently there wasn't enough evidence and intell suggested he had powerful friends in the High Council and in the ruling body of Sula.

Well, Esna Toshka had High Council 'friends' too and he was now in custody and soon to undergo trial.

Unlike Toshka, Zau was lying low, hiding away in the depths of the most criminally associated hotels in Portal City, hoping his faint unspecified associations with Toshka weren't going to be enough to lead to his arrest.

And he was right if Division got their way.

Zau probably felt safe and protected here.

He was wrong.

Division might not think they could arrest Zau, or even be able to grab him in this jungle of concrete and hundreds of watching eyes, but the Elite had enough evidence to speak to him.

Zau had met with The Traitor on at least two occasions.

It was all Oneakka needed, and he had no problem going in where Division were too afraid to tread.

Weaklings.

He was faintly aware that his mood hadn't been great in the last week since the Sythus had slid into space dock undergoing significant repairs. People had been keeping their distance from him more than usual, not that he cared. Unfortunately there were no missions for him to join as yet whilst the Sythus was beached, so Oneakka had set his sights on making sure Division were accurately and thoroughly following up on the Toshka database.

And it kept him away from the Training Facility.

He would normally be using his small quarters in the Facility while based off the Sythus, but he hadn't been back to the Facility yet.

And he wasn't planning to go back any time soon.

There wasn't any need.

Though he could visit Massa and Aki, and normally he would entertain himself with training the Recruits for awhile too, but that wasn't worth the risk either.

It would be too tempting.

If he went to the Facility, he would see _her_.

Even if he didn't go anywhere near the areas of the Facility where she was working – which was in the Research Sector, Base Level in Project room Alpha six – he might walk into her in the hallways near the habitation areas of the Facility – because she was assigned room 1168 in the Visitor Sector and he might use that corridor himself.

He'd promised himself that he'd keep his distance from her. He had asked Massa to keep an eye on Seeal at least, and though he had subtly tried to gain some insight from Massa as to how she was coping in the Facility, Massa had stubbornly refused to tell him anything.

He had only been checking she was alright and that she wasn't going to do anything 'stupid'.

She'd gotten the best deal she could – a clean slate and a worthy job, at least for a year or so. She'd been grateful, and had promised she would behave herself.

He'd believed her, but still...he thought about her far too much.

With a loud growl at himself, he pushed himself out of the small sheltered spot he had been using to wait for his moment. Sixteen floors up from the concrete street below, the rain pattered against his head, the waterproof black headgear protecting him from the water, but making him slightly itchy inside its warmth.

A glance down at the street far below confirmed no one was walking around down there. The wind was picking up, pushing the falling rain across the narrow space between one building and the next.

Oneakka pulled out his pad that had a link up to the watching satellite above and checked the scan of the building across the space before him. The room in which Zau was currently thinking was his safe haven was set deep in the middle of the building. The satellite's soft scan and Oneakka's patch into the hotel's internal cameras confirmed that nothing had changed inside.

Everyone was asleep, apart from two sentries, one of which was in the corridor and the other in the lounge of the large hotel suite Zau was enjoying.

Oneakka shoved the satellite linked pad back into a sealable waterproof pocket of his black jacket over his armour beneath. A glance through the rain across the narrow alley confirmed no change to the long guttering pipeline that ran down the side of the building in front of him.

The leap was easy for him from one building to the next, his grip slipping only briefly as he got a good purchase on the gutter pipe and the edge of a concrete balcony.

The climb up three more floors wasn't difficult, though it was slippery and the guttering groaned slightly with his weight, but it held until he reached the right floor and slipped onto an empty balcony. He then made his way along the balconies of the same floor level until he reached the one he had selected, knowing it would be empty.

He easily bypassed the security lock on the balcony door and moved silently through the dark empty hotel room inside to the room's entrance. At the closed door, he pulled out the scan link again and checked the sentry's position in the hallway outside; Three doorways down on the other side of the corridor.

He watched the building's internal camera feed, watching the sentry looking back and forth. He was good and alert, not some cheap overly relaxed guard.

Oneakka released the lock on the door carefully. Fortunately the doors were the old fashioned types that actually physically opened towards you, not siding into the wall space which would limit his ambush out of the doorway.

He eased the door open a fraction as the sentry looked the other way down the corridor.

The sentry looked back this way and sighed. He looked at his timepiece attached to the cuff of his jacket.

He looked away.

He registered Oneakka's approach just in time to look round, but it was too late by then.

Oneakka lowered the man's unconscious body to the thin hallway carpet as he checked both ways down the corridor. He had looped the hotel's camera feeds a second before he had stepped into the hallway, so he had no eyes on the other hallways, but all seemed quiet.

He pulled the slim door key from the unconscious sentry's pocket and set it in the door's electronic lock. He heard the lock disarm inside, so he stepped back, pulled his headgear off to show his Elite face, pulled out two guns and applied his boot to the door.

Zau hadn't expected the Elite to come for him, and stories of his capture in the middle of that night by one silent unseen Elite warrior nineteen floors up fast became legendary in Portal City.

00000

 _Atlantis_

It had been ten days now since John had returned to Atlantis from the mission to Giant with the Elite, but it felt like twice that. It had been a long ten days, through which he hadn't been getting all that much sleep.

The first couple of nights back had been uncomfortable thanks to the bruises and one sprained ankle he had brought back with him from the mission on Giant. But, as more nights had passed with barely any sleep, John had started to admit to himself that he was wired and worried.

His days had been far from dangerous since his return, not having been off world since, but they had been stressful in entirely new ways.

The largest stress being the IOA's official response to the Political Marriage – or rather their lack of one so far. Instead they had been just sending lists of questions through from Earth. Each day the Gate activated from home, albeit via the new Midway Station, and each day a new list of questions would arrive for him and Colonels Carter and Sumner to answer. They would then pour over the questions together. Well, he and Carter did, as Sumner couldn't seem to take more than half an hour a day at it before he declared he had more important things to do.

So despite his previously thorough reports, John was spending his days answering seemingly unending questions about the Alliance, about Athos, about the Elite, the missions he had shared with them, about the fire power he had seen, and even on political bits and pieces he had overheard. Woolsey would normally have helped with that, but he had been recalled to Earth for the IOA to talk to directly.

Which left John and the Colonels still waiting for an official response ten days and counting since Giant, which had already been days after the Wedding.

John didn't know if he could stand the waiting anymore.

Were the IOA going to honour the contract with the Elite and Athos?

Was John going to keep his job?

Was Colonel Carter going to keep her job?

Or were the IOA going to ruin everything by deciding to pull him out of the Political Marriage contract?

Or were they going to try to renegotiate things and risk the contract that way?

Hell, even if the IOA agreed to keep the contract, what was Stargate Command going to say about John having made this contract without permission?

Too many damn questions going round his head and no answers. Just the damn lists of IOA questions, day after day, going round and round. The answers sent back home each day only brought more questions, some of them even clearly repeating earlier answered questions, or posing questions he had no idea how to answer accurately.

How many ships did he estimate there were in the Alliance Military Fleet? How much firepower? How many worlds in the Alliance were pro-Atlantis?

How the hell was he supposed to know those answers?

He didn't even know where his wife was.

He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do about having an alien wife he was secretly in love with.

Was he going to have to tell The Powers That Be that he had been in a relationship with Teyla? Had Woolsey worked it out? Had he told the IOA? Stargate Command?

Was she thinking about him?

Had she decided how she was going to approach their marriage? Because he sure didn't know what the hell to do. He'd told her that they could start fresh, let the bad things they had said to each other go.

They loved each other, but it was hardly the best relationship in the best circumstances. She had said she was confused about things between them, which had at least made him feel less alone in his confusion, but it had hardly helped sort anything out. She hadn't seemed thrilled with the prospect of them being together again – how was he supposed to take that?

He wasn't even sure how he felt about it all. She'd walked away from their relationship once already – if he risked his job and perhaps his future in Pegasus in being with her again, what if she threw it all away again?

What if she had been killed and he would never get to answer these questions?

What if she was out there somewhere hurt and dying and he didn't know about it?

Too many questions and no damn answers.

His dark ceiling was completely unhelpful as he silently worked through his questions towards it, which only made him feel more restless.

Huffing out a loud sigh, John rolled onto his side and contemplated his alarm clock. 04:33. Great.

He contemplated getting up, maybe going for a run. He could even go into the Infirmary, see if Carson was awake.

Carson was another reason to worry.

The Doc was out of the woods as far as surviving, but his burns...

They weren't good, the swelling and who knew what kind of pain the guy was in, was covered with bandages most of the time, but twice a day they came off and the Elite's ointment was smeared over the guy.

But, it wasn't the treatments that worried John. It was what he saw in Carson's eyes.

The guy answered questions, showed some interest in what was going on in the city, but there was a distance in his eyes that John wasn't so sure was due to the pain killers. Carson's right arm had been pinned and plated back into shape, he'd taken a knock to the head, and half of him had been burned to the point of them almost losing him, but physical recovery was only one part. John had seen people come back from horrendous injuries in war, but the emotional, psychological side of things was harder to call.

The Doc had made a decision that had resulted in people around him, including his patient and his best Nurse, Marie, being killed. That Carson had himself survived wasn't going to make him feel better.

John knew a little about Survivor's Guilt, but any attempt he'd made to broach the subject with Carson had been carefully ignored by the Doc, but then the guy was uncomfortable and in pain. He had a right to be withdrawn.

Besides, if you had Rodney sat by your elbow all day every day, it would drive anyone mad.

Which was yet another source of concern; Rodney appeared to be taking what had happened to Carson as somehow his fault. Everyone had argued otherwise, Carson included, but it hadn't helped. Rodney spent every minute of every day at Carson's side, constantly talking and trying to be upbeat.

Maybe Rodney could see what John could see in Carson's eyes, or at least sense that Carson wasn't doing so well on the inside.

There was something uniquely painful about seeing a kind hearted and courageous non-military man like Carson be broken inside and try not to show it.

There was no ointment for that, Elite given or otherwise.

And nothing more that John could do for Carson, to help Rodney, or know where Teyla was and what she was thinking. Or to get the IOA to make a decision!

There were just questions, worries, and stress.

If something didn't change soon, John swore he was going to lose it.

00000  
TBC


	3. The Waiting in Exclusion

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 **Chapter 3 – Waiting in Exclusion**

 _The Elite Training Facility_

The three screens glowed in the half light of the evening, data spiralling down two of them as complex coding experiments ran. The third screen displayed a technical journal published a few months ago which detailed the new capabilities of a new type of computer circuit. The circuit utilised a new combination of rare metals and an innovative way of moving the data that was on the very edge of accepted theory of energy and particle physics.

Seeal scrolled the third screen down to the last few paragraphs of the journal piece, glancing at the running data experiments on the other two screens. Everything was working so far, so she returned her attention to the journal and reached out for the last piece of her dinner sat on the edge of her personal workstation.

She liked her workstation. It had these three screens, which could be angled to whatever position she liked, and were linked in with some of the fastest computer processing that she knew was possible. The Elite's Training Facility did not skimp on computing speeds.

The Tile Brothers would probably do anything anyone asked just for a chance to work with these kinds of processing speeds and connectivity for an hour or two. She got to work with it every day now.

In front of her, below the screens, she had two physical coding keyboards that she could move anywhere in the research room and the computers would recognise her work and relay it to the screen closest to her. It was handy during the daily morning meetings for the whole research team, during which everyone would present their previous day's work and decide on everyone's new assignments.

She liked the meetings, not that they were easy; far from it. The research group were literally the most intelligent people she had ever met pooled together around one table. She had even heard of some of them from her days outside of the Alliance. One computer scientist had developed the first high speed computing systems that were used on every planet in the Alliance, and he was now, prior to this project, a teacher of the latest wonder minds in the Alliance. Another member of the project was a child genius, about to turn twelve years old; the girl could run maths in her head that would take a day for Seeal to get her head around. At that girl's side always sat her father who was an engineer, who had led the group responsible for building the Training Facility's current computer systems. The rest of the group were engineers, security systems analysts and designers, and several programme coders who had designed the main military computer systems.

All of them had years of technical research and development behind them, most of them recognised experts in their fields, and were educated in ways she never had access to in her youth, let alone in her adult years to date.

From her first day here she had realised how behind she was in her current technical knowledge of the field of computing. She might be good at what she knew, but now she had found an entire extra universe of knowledge and skill and she had years of catching up to do.

That said, she felt she was holding her own in the meetings. In this room at least, no one cared about her past. She was judged and valued on her mind and her ability to contribute to the project. She might not have the background of their knowledge on what was used where in the Alliance and where current computer research was heading, but she had real world experience of using computers in the field, how they could be hacked, and how to fit such knowledge into her approach to coding. She seemed to be respected for that knowledge here, though she had a great deal to learn in order to become as effective as she wanted to be.

So, she used her evenings to do that extra research, to read the years of technical journals, histories and text books that she had not had any access to before. Here, in the Facility, she had access to anything. If she wanted to read an obscure article from some small Alliance world's newspaper she could find it in the database. It all provided an education that she was desperate to absorb.

She finished the last summary paragraph of the article, her mind turning over questions raised from the journal. The author was a member of the project, so she noted down some points to pose to him tomorrow. He was a quiet elder man, but his mind was fast and he enjoyed questions – whether he was answering them or he was asking them. She had been on the receiving end of his thoughtfully precise and intelligent questions and so far had held her own. She would ask him her questions tomorrow and suspected that he would have questions of his own about her reading of his experiments and theories. She would need to have her responses well thought through and coherent.

Her notes made, she sat back in her fully adjustable and thickly padded chair. Honestly, even the chairs were deliciously comfortable in this place. Her mattress in her tiny quarters here was blissfully as comfortable as she had hoped, and she looked forward to crawling into her bed each night.

She glanced at the time display on all three screens. Her coding experiments were still running, so she looked away across the empty project room. The cleaners had finished, used to working around her in the evenings now.

Overhead, looking down into the project room, there was a glass-walled observation deck, where a security guard always stood watch. She couldn't see the details of this evening's guard's face, the windows tilted at just the right angle to glare the overhead light across the glass.

She didn't mind the guards; she was used to seeing them around the research sector of the Elite's Facility. It was a good place really; the Facility was huge, stretching miles, only five floors high at the most, and was divided out between habitation areas, Recruit training rooms, the gyms, this research sector, and the core area which was the Elite's centralised security centre. She had of course never been in that sector, but she had been in all the others.

She hadn't been outside though, because the planet or moon that the Elite had chosen for their headquarters was a barren empty landscape. There was an atmosphere out there, but thin. There was something about the rock in the areas the Elite had built their Facility into which produced some oxygen naturally, but out beyond those formations the air could grow very thin and become completely unbreathable.

Wisely, the Facility was set a transport ship trip away from the Portal on this planet/moon. The Portal stood in a breathable region of atmosphere, with a security station watching over it from inside an overlooking ridge behind the Portal. There was nothing else around the Portal except barren landscape and no tracks to the Facility discoverable. The transport trip and limited atmosphere didn't limit traffic to and from the Facility though. Every day she saw different Elite arriving and departing the Facility, which meant that there were far more Elite out there than she had realised.

There were a lot of Elite Recruits too – several hundred by her estimate living in the Facility. They ranged in years, but most of them were young. As she had heard, the Elite were trained from as young an age as possible. There were even infants living here. The eldest years of the Recruits were probably only just considered adults on most worlds, but by that point they had already had over a decade of Elite training.

Besides the Elite passing through daily, some Elite stayed in the Facility for brief spells, and the facility staff, perhaps a hundred or so, lived here permanently. She had heard that most of the staff here were former Elite Recruits who had failed or had dropped out of their training. There was a very high dropout rate apparently, which was probably a good thing when graduating meant battling Wraith to the death. You had to want to do it and be good at it.

That advanced training was aided by the fantastic gym facilities available. There was literally every type of training or workout equipment, or practice weaponry available in any of the ten or so gyms in the Facility. All staff were allowed to use them, encouraged to, so she had full access any time of the day. There was even an assault course stretching a mile, filled with tall walls to climb and ropes to swing across deep water or mud filled pits. There were other gyms filled with exercise equipment, with ropes hanging from storeys high, ladders that ran up the walls, along the ceilings and through dark tunnels to the next gym along. It was a playground for her, but of course a serious and thorough training school for the Recruits.

She visited the gyms only once a day at the moment, though she would love to use them more, but she limited herself to one short workout in the late evenings. She had first thought to work out after her research project hours, or first thing in the morning, but it had turned out that everyone else used the gyms at that time. The best time to get the equipment and a quieter atmosphere in the gyms, outside of her working hours, was late at night before she turned in for bed.

She glanced at the time again; she would head to a gym soon once these experiments completed. Her days were full, educating, and challenged her in ways she had not experienced before.

She rather liked working here.

There was just one problem.

A possibly significant problem that could affect everything.

The problem was the Recruits. There were too many of them to blame them all with the same attitude, but it had been made very clear to her that they did not approve of her working here, given her history.

In her first days there had been glares and hostile gestures, which had developed into bad names and insulting comments delivered just loud enough for her to hear as they passed her in the corridors. She had made the mistake of moving too far away from her gym bag one day during a workout and had returned to find it filled with a gloopy drink, her clothing inside torn up and what had looked like spit floating in her water bottle.

She had ignored it all.

Even when items had almost hit her in the gym and once in a canteen.

It was an escalation of aggression that, in her extensive experience, would eventually lead to a physical confrontation.

She was not angry about it, since the fact was that these Recruits were still children. Most of them hadn't spent more than a few days outside of this Facility and those old enough to soon be graduating hadn't even faced a Wraith. They were full of their purpose and sense of importance, which was probably part of what gave Elite the courage to face a Wraith. They felt chosen and trained to be the best they could. Unsurprisingly, such a group held a lot of inflated egos, but also young adults that did not actually know their place in the galaxy. They had a frightening career ahead of them and inwardly doubted their ability, and many weak unconfident egos in such a situation worked to compensate with big opinions and dominance games within their peer group.

She'd seen it all before – on the streets, in the pit fights, and on Dreamstation. They were terrified and unsure of themselves, but thought they were powerful and unstoppable. To help prove that to themselves, she became a natural target. To them she did not deserve the honour of working here, and therefore had become their enemy.

They were children, untested in the real world, but they were still well trained, so she had kept her distance and kept her body language very non-confrontational and neutral. If they did start something one day, then she would make sure that she had done nothing to provoke the incident.

Because she liked it here, and because she had made a promise.

She'd promised Oneakka that she would behave herself, and she was almost certain that getting into a fight with Elite Recruits would fall into his category of 'trouble'. If something did happen with the Recruits, it would not be a light barely felt slap on the wrist, it would be a proper fight. Such fights, especially with such highly trained but not truly tested warriors, would result in injures.

Which again would certainly breach the whole 'staying out of trouble' promise she had made to Oneakka.

She hadn't seen the Elite warrior since she'd left the Sythus, and did not expect him to visit.

Except she found herself always looking out for him.

Every new visitor passing through the Facility's corridors caught her attention, and it had taken a few days here before she had admitted to herself that she kept looking for a certain face, a certain distinctive scar and facial tattoos.

She heard the Recruits talking in the canteen about him though. Apparently, Oneakka had pulled some criminal out of Sula all by himself in the dead of night. It was an impressive accomplishment that she suspected the Recruits could not truly understand. She knew what Sula was like, had been there herself plenty of times. It was not a pretty place and was a dive and hive of trouble waiting to kick off if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Though the Recruits could not know what she did, they did appreciate Oneakka's skill and reputation. He was clearly something of a legendary warrior here who they respected but feared. Edfu had told her that when Oneakka visited the Facility, more Recruits gave up their training than at any other time. Sometimes he didn't even have to take training sessions with them; just the sight of Oneakka in the Facility put the Recruits on edge.

She understood their reasoning, as she had feared Oneakka when she had first met him. He was unique even among all the other Elite she had seen here in the Facility. Elite could be any shape, size, gender, or from any world, but none of them seemed to have the same physical presence as Oneakka. He seemed to embody a power and self-confidence that none of these Recruits could come close to understanding, let alone engendering in themselves yet. That said, very few had the life experience of Oneakka – as a young man, still a Recruit himself, he had lost all his family, all his people, and had faced down an entire Wraith base and a Queen by himself. How he had survived that was stunning, but the damage that had caused in him was clear to her.

She understood what childhood trauma could do to you, what a life spent fighting could shape. Most of these Recruits, they had so much to face and learn about battle trauma, humanity, and seeing the very worst life had to offer. They would meet people at their very worst, the day the Wraith arrived. She'd seen what that could do – it made people panic and behave as they never thought they would. People would abandon each other, trample children into the dirt, and push others forward in their place to get away from the clawing reach of the Wraith.

But there were good people too, and heroic acts.

She'd seen what heroic work the Elite could do. Where once she had scoffed at the madness of Elite throwing themselves onto an obvious death at the hands of the Wraith, she had since seen how effective they could actually be. And now she was helping them, in a small way.

So, she wasn't about to start a fight with the Recruits, future Elite warriors. Doing so would prove nothing to herself, put her new job in jeopardy, and break her promise to Oneakka.

That all aside, she had enough experience in human behaviour, especially among those with big but delicate egos, to know that a confrontation was highly likely.

If that happened, well, she wasn't going to back down and take a beating. That was never going to happen.

She just wished she wasn't going to have to betray Oneakka's faith in her.

Except, a small traitorous little part of her wondered, if a confrontation did happen, would that bring Oneakka back into her life?

00000  
TBC


	4. The Pain of Youth

000000

 **Chapter 4 – The Pain of Youth**

 _The Elite Training Facility_

Aki grinned up at her, his large smile out of proportion in his baby face. Clear dribble coated his little chin as he laughed brightly and loudly, the chuckle so infectious that Teyla chuckled along with him.

It had been a week since the Sythus had docked for repairs, which were predicted to take many weeks. The decision had been made to take the opportunity of the structural repairs to make some adjustments to the ship's primary systems and to do a full clean inspection and wipe of the computers and communications. Following the combined events of Karthig's reveal, his sabotage, Seeal's hacks, and the still unidentified slug filled robots, the Sythus needed a deep clean – physically and electronically.

Such deep and lengthy work meant that only two Elite were required to remain onboard. Halling had volunteered, almost eager to be left behind on the Sythus, and then Nalla after him; which had left the rest of Teyla's friends and colleagues to seek their own duties elsewhere and have some downtime.

Teyla had filled her first week with the Military Council, reporting on the events in the Nest battle, including the new Seed Ship and the robots that had been so destructive. As yet, little was truly known about the newly appeared tech and any predictions on whether they were Wraith grown or not. Many discussions had been had, scans and recordings repeatedly studied, but ultimately nothing would really be known until the scientists on the Mad Moon had completed their full examination of the one slug robot they had, the scattered remains of the others, and the few collected pieces of the Seed Ship from when it had attempted to gut the Sythus prior to self destructing. There had been a great deal of discussion about it all, but no real decisions as yet.

With the exception being the Council's universal pleasure of the great victory that had been won in the former Nest System, and the new relationship with Atlantis.

She was aware that she had started to refer to it as just that: a relationship.

The reason was obvious enough considering the core of that contract had been formed around her and John's relationship. Or former one.

She was very much unsure as to what its nature was now and would become. What time she had thought she would have with John on the Sythus to discuss it further had been cut short by his urgent recall to Atlantis. She had been assured that all was now well in the Ancestral City, had received reports that Doctor Beckett was recovering, and she knew that Father was in touch with Atlantis. But she had not made direct contact with John since his recall.

It was not required of her, as theirs was a Political Marriage, but it was also _not_ just a Political Marriage. What shape it would take was still unclear.

She had hoped to see John, at least briefly, during Atlantis' trips to Athos, as she was technically staying in Tjaru, though she had been away for the last two days. That had not made much difference though, for since the unknown incident in Atlantis that had led to loss of life and John's urgent recall, Atlantis representatives had not visited Athos again. Father said he was in daily contact with Colonel Carter, and all appeared to be well enough in Atlantis now, but something was not quite right. Father seemed confident that matters were well, that negotiations about the finer details of the marriage contract were discussed, but Teyla could see his lingering concerns.

Why had John and his people, especially Mr Woolsey, not visited Athos? They had been visiting every week, sometimes twice a week, until recently so why stop now? Unless it truly was a security decision following whatever the incident was that had so severely injured Doctor Beckett.

Teyla had personally ensured that the Elite's most skilled Healer in the area of burn treatment visited Atlantis. An Elite accompanied the Healer each day, usually Isen, and his reports stated that Atlantis remained friendly and apparently secure.

She had at first worried about John in now visiting Athos, but Isen reported that John met with him and the Healer each and every time they visited Atlantis. So, she knew he was well, but perhaps he had lost friends and colleagues in the incident? Or perhaps he had been punished for initiating the Political Marriage contract without prior permission, as he clearly had done. It had also occurred to her that perhaps his superiors had learnt about their relationship and John's involvement as ambassador was being limited. She hoped that would not be the case, as it would be against the spirit of a Political Marriage contract to limited John's involvement.

Needless to say there was too much unknown, though she had to trust Father's reading of his conversations with Atlantis, even if they were only through link via the Portal.

She would hopefully be able to tell for herself, for today she was finally free of her Military Council duties and would be heading back to Athos for a more prolonged period. She had missed spending time with her family – something that she found herself far more willing to admit and enjoy.

And it might help for her to be seen on the links to Atlantis.

She could request to speak to John, gauge his expressions to ensure that he was well. Though, she was not entirely sure what she would say to him, since she still felt so confused on the future between them.

So, free from her duties following her brief check in with matters here in the Training Facility, she had decided to visit Massa and Aki. She had intended to specifically find time to spend with them, and this afternoon she finally had time.

Massa was currently teaching a Recruit tactics session, so she had made her way to the infant dayroom in the Facility, where the youngest children of Elite, or potential Elite themselves, spent their days learning and playing.

As one named by Massa as able to collect Aki, though he did not know of her visit yet today, Teyla had been allowed to remove Aki from the playgroup. Aki, though not having seen her for weeks, recognised her instantly and had been smiling at her since. It was obvious how quickly he was growing and developing even in such a short time frame.

Selecting a place far across the wide bright infant room, she had settled down on a thick floor mat with Aki while she waited for Massa to arrive to collect him.

Holding Aki up so that his feet tapped against her knee, she bounced him again and told him how beautiful he was. Aki' enormous blue eyes shone and he kicked his legs, now able to stand to a certain degree with assistance. He liked the bouncing though.

Sitting alone with him, engrossed in his childhood innocence, she could forget the troubles outside the room, even forget Aki' heritage that he would one day have to face himself. What a weight it would be for the boy to grow up knowing what cruel creature his mother, Iketani, had been. How she had used his existence as blackmail and had abandoned him.

Teyla had no idea how Massa was going to deal with those discussions once the day came, or whether he would tell his adopted son that Iketani had killed his wife and unborn child. That he in turn had killed Aki' mother. Teyla's heart ached a little to look at the little boy in her hands, knowing that he would have to take on all that burden of knowledge some day.

What kind of man would this boy one day become?

Looking at his little happy face, she could recognise Iketani' colouring in him; he had light skin, blonde eyebrows and hair, and big beautiful blue eyes. Yet, she could see more of his father in Aki' features, which might turn out to be fortunate in serving to distance him from Iketani' memory. Aki' biological father, Telson, had some rights to see him, but they were limited. Telson had been involved in underhand dealings with Iketani, working to undermine the High Council from within. Telson could never officially claim the boy due to his world's social structure and his extramarital involvement with Iketani, and the Elite would not trust him to raise his son correctly. Apparently, Telson was proud that Aki was being raised by an Elite Father, but he officially never spoke about Aki. To do so would lead to him losing power in the High Council, but Teyla did not care about such things as she looked into Aki's giggling face. Aki was healthy, happy and growing fast.

He was also clearly helping heal the hurt inside Massa, who nowadays could be seen to smile frequently again, and his love for his new son was very clear.

Teyla wondered if she had needed to be in the presence of such clear and uncomplicated love today.

She bounced Aki again, leaning in and kissing his tiny nose and pulling back quickly. Aki giggled and chuckled, babbling noises that were not yet words as dribble rolled down his chin.

Teyla drew him closer, sitting him on her knee, which he could do now by himself, but she supported him with one hand as she wiped his chin with the soft cloth bib around his neck. Aki stared up at her with complete acceptance.

She remembered taking care of Zabetha like this after Mother had been killed. Still young herself, she had clung to caring for Zabetha to help her own hurt heart, though Father had been there to love them. But, as Father had grown more politically involved, eventually becoming Leader of Athos, Teyla had begun to see more beyond caring for her sister and doing the best in school and bantos training. She had started to dream of becoming an Elite and fighting to make sure no other mothers would be taken, no other families broken apart like hers.

Ironically, that decision of hers had broken her family further apart, at least for a while. She felt closer to her family now than ever before, and she had lost much of her trepidation in loving them.

It was loving another that gave her pause now.

Aki waved his arms, asking to be bounced again. Teyla obliged, lifting him and bouncing him.

As she did, she realised she was humming an old Athosian nursery rhyme she had used to sing to Zabetha when she had been little. It was old and well known across Athos, and she remembered Mother singing it to her.

So, she gently bounced Aki in time as she once again sung the old song.

"Through the trees and down the path  
between the leaves and the bark  
lies the secret heart.  
If I lay down will I sleep?  
Into the chasm I will leap  
With my heart I steal away  
to return another day."

She was surprised how easily the words returned to her; long buried and well heard by her childhood self. Aki' eyes widened as he listened, his gaze focusing on her mouth to watch how she moved her lips as she spoke the words.

She repeated it again for him.

"Through the trees and down the path  
between the leaves and the bark  
lies the secret heart.  
If I lay down will I sleep?  
Into the chasm I will leap  
With my heart I steal away  
to return another day."

She considered the words this time. Popular wisdom on Athos said that the old song was designed to be the first warnings to children of the dangers of going into the woods at night; that the Wraith could find you and steal your life.

Yet, today, Teyla considered how 'heart' related to one's life in the song. That the song spoke of going deep into the forest to find the 'secret heart'. The last two lines also felt quite telling of her own feelings of late.

"With my heart I steal away  
to return another day."

Teyla whispered them to Aki as she bounced him again.

The philosophical nature of the song was lost on little Aki though, for he simply grinned again and tried to copy the sounds of her words.

She smiled at him, settling him on her knee once more to wipe his chin again. One of his cheeks was quite red, so she suspected he was cutting a tooth.

As she glanced up, she saw Massa had arrived. He had already seen her and Aki and was heading through the large room towards them, a smile across his deep dark handsome face.

As always in this room, there was a sharp contrast in watching an Elite warrior walk past walls painted with bright cheerful colours and pictures.

Aki' coordination might not yet be fully developed, but his eyesight was very good, for he spotted his Father from a surprising distance. Aki' high pitched squeal of delight in seeing Massa cut into Teyla's right ear drum loud and sharp. Massa grinned back just as happily as he reached them, crouching down by her side, his eyes on his son. One large dark hand covered Aki' hair, the little boy's entire head fitting easily into Massa's palm.

"Hello, Little Warrior," Massa greeted Aki.

Aki cooed with pure happiness, his arms reaching towards Massa in an attempt to move towards his Father. Teyla instigated the move instead, handing Aki to Massa.

Massa lifted Aki to his shoulder, the little boy snuggling into his Father quickly.

"Emmagan," Massa smiled to her as he settled down onto the floor mat beside her, his free hand touching her shoulder briefly in greeting. She smiled at him choosing to sit down on the floor beside her; she supposed he spent a great deal of his time now on the floor interacting with Aki.

"I hope you do not mind my visiting Aki and you," she replied touching his closest knee in greeting.

"We never mind," Massa replied as he settled Aki into his arm, wiping more drool away from the babe's chin. "It is good to see you," he smiled at her, only for his expression to become assessing. "Be honest though, did he send you?"

Teyla paused at the unexpected question. "Did who send me?" She asked.

"Oneakka," Massa answered her, amused suspicion playing across his face.

Had she missed something important? As far as she was aware, Oneakka was using his time away from the Sythus to work on furthering the exploration of the Dreamstation and Toshka databases.

"Why would Oneakka send me?" She asked.

"To get information out of me," Massa replied, which did not clarify anything. Surely Oneakka and Massa could speak over link, or Oneakka visit here himself.

"What information?" She asked, feeling somewhat lost in this conversation and sensing that Massa was amused at the fact.

"Information about a certain new female working in the Facility," Massa replied as he adjusted Aki in his arm.

Teyla frowned, but then realised his meaning. "Seeal," she concluded and Massa nodded.

"I am not surprised he would enquire after her," Teyla considered, though suspected that Massa knew as well as she did that Oneakka's interest likely went beyond professional interest that Seeal was not causing problems.

"He hasn't asked anything about her," Massa told her as if that fact meant a great deal.

Teyla was not entirely certain she was following his logic. "If he has not asked you about Seeal, why would you think he is after information?"

"He has contacted me by link five times since the Nest System victory; twice on your way to space dock and three times in the week since. I have heard less from him in a whole year," Massa stated, which was a clear exaggeration as the two were friends, but she understood his point.

"What have you told him?" She asked.

"He hasn't asked about her, so I haven't told him _anything_ ," Massa stated with what looked like pride.

"Perhaps he was not contacting you about her and simply wished to know how you and Aki are doing?" She suggested. "Oneakka does grow bored easily and there are no assignments at present."

"He wants to know. He asked me to keep an eye on Seeal," Massa told her with a meaningful smile.

Teyla frowned at his somewhat dubious logic. "If he asked you to keep an eye on her, why is it so strange that he wants to know the outcome?"

"But he _hasn't_ asked, has he," Massa replied. "He won't go so far as to ask, because then he'd be admitting that he wants to know." Massa nodded and grinned at his point.

Teyla decided to leave the strange power battle to the two males.

"How is Seeal doing here?" She asked, interested herself now.

She had wondered about Seeal a few times, but had expected that matters would be fine here in the Facility. Seeal's actions on the Sythus had been vital in the success of several missions now, and Teyla trusted her. She was not overly sure why; perhaps it was the way that Seeal said what she thought; which was not unlike a certain Elite male she knew. The two had a great deal in common, despite their greatly differing backgrounds.

Massa considered her and her question. "You're not going to tell him are you?" He asked.

"I promise not to tell him anything," she swore; it was best to leave matters between the two.

"There have been no problems yet," Massa shrugged.

"Yet?" Teyla asked, aware of his careful choice of words. Was Seeal behaving differently, less trustworthy off the Sythus? She had her clean past record now, so perhaps she was not motivated to follow the rules. It was a worrying thought – though oddly, Teyla found herself more disappointed for Oneakka.

"You believe she is a threat?" She asked directly.

"No," Massa dismissed the worried question though. Then he grinned. "Except maybe to certain 'parts' of Oneakka that he rarely indulges."

Teyla didn't try very hard not to smile at the implication. "Yet, something is worrying you about her presence here?"

"She hasn't made a wrong move and appears to be very focused on the research project," Massa reported. "But some do not like her being here. We'll see what happens. I'm keeping an eye on things." He did not sound all that concerned about the prospect.

Teyla trusted Massa's assessment of matters though and that he would watch things carefully.

"I should congratulate you on your new marriage," Massa changed the subject matter.

She smiled in response. "I do feel it was the right decision to accept Atlantis' offer."

Massa nodded. "It is the major topic of conversation in the seminars," he reported.

She frowned at the thought of her personal life now a matter of lesson plans.

"We've altered the current project for the Recruits in the upper two years to provide their thoughts and concerns on the prospect of a future working with Atlantis," Massa informed her.

"It is an essay assignment?" She asked surprised.

"The question is being put to all of the Elite," Massa reminded her. "It could be one of the most significant decisions for the war against the Wraith in a long time. It is a good thought experiment for the Recruits, when the real life results will be unfolding soon enough. It will be very interesting."

She nodded. "Of course." The significance of the new relationship between the Alliance, Elite and Atlantis was why she had decided to accept John's offer.

Mainly.

She wondered what John would think to know that the Elite Recruits were all considering him and his role in the future of the Alliance as part of their work assignments.

"Something worrying you?" Massa asked.

She realised she had been lost in her thoughts. She pushed away her private worries. "I have complete faith that Atlantis will help us in the war."

Massa nodded, but his gaze was searching. "Nothing else is worrying you?"

She had known Massa for a very long time, though he had graduated as an Elite several years before her. Though they had not been assigned on many missions together, they had been constantly in each other's lives, and she cared for him deeply. However, there was an element of his life that had drawn her focus more of late – his painful loss of Mera and their unborn child. Though Aki had helped heal some of that pain, the impact of what had happened was sometimes still easily visible in his face. There was nearly always a touch of sadness in his gaze when he thought no one watched him.

She knew that look, for Father still showed it in his continuing grief for Mother, despite the many years that had passed since she had been killed. Teyla had actually rather enjoyed seeing that Father still clearly loved Mother, though she worried about his aching heart. However, now that she had someone in her life who had cut deep to her own heart, she worried.

What if something were to happen to John? Would it affect her like Massa? She had attempted to distance herself from John for several reasons, and protecting her own emotional self had been one of them. However, matters had changed and now he was more a part of her life than ever before. If she were to seek a return to a full relationship with John, would the love she felt only deepen? And if something were to happen to him? What if they grew closer and she were killed, would it hurt John as much as she saw Massa damaged by Mera's murder?

"What is it?" Massa asked, seeing something in her face that betrayed how perplexing a problem this was for her.

She drew in a breath. "Questions about my future," she considered.

"With the Elite?" Massa asked, surprising her.

"No," she replied. "Being an Elite is who I am. It relates more to my...personal life."

Massa looked surprised, but very interested in her answer. "A romantic issue?" He asked.

She gave him a rueful look. "Not everyone is troubled by the same things as Oneakka," she smiled.

Massa narrowed his eyes at her though. "So it is _not_ about a male?" He pushed, the doubt clear in his voice.

She sighed. "Perhaps," she admitted.

Massa nodded as he looked down at Aki, who was dozing contentedly against him. He glanced up at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Your new husband perhaps?"

She frowned. "Who told you?" She asked. "Was it Oneakka?"

Massa was grinning now. "I wasn't sure he was right until now though."

"I am certainly not telling him about Seeal's progress here now," she muttered, but oddly it felt a relief. "I selected Atlantis' offer because they are the best ally for us, not because of my former associations with John Sheppard," she emphasised for him.

"' _Former'_ associations?" Massa asked having picked up on the one significant word in her statement.

She glanced away, concerned others may overhear, but there was no one else in the playroom except infants and their caregiver far across the large room. Only Aki was in earshot and he clearly did not care or understand.

She sighed, worried for a moment that it would be unkind to speak of such things with Massa considering his past pain.

"The balance between being a focused warrior and having...someone significant in one's life is something I am unsure I am capable of managing. Or if it is possible?" She realised she had asked it as a question, looking to Massa who had lived through the actual events she feared.

Massa nodded, his manner now serious and thoughtful. She watched him, sensing his was preparing his words carefully. She waited, patiently and strangely nervous to hear his thoughts, for she knew she would place his opinion highly, regardless of what side of things he may fall.

Massa glanced down at Aki in his arm, touching the small boy's little cheek, which was flushed pink from the pushing tooth in his gum. Yet, the boy dozed contentedly in the large protective arm of his adoptive Father.

"You know more than most of the..." Massa frowned as he sought the right word, " _trauma_ I have lived through."

Teyla blinked away the tears that suddenly threatened to form in her eyes as she watched Massa's profile as he watched Aki sleep.

"Not a moment passes that I do not think of Mera and our unborn babe," he continued, his tone strong but full of frank emotion. "I often think of what my life would be if they had lived. If we had realised the true depth of deception that was Iketani."

Teyla glanced down at Aki, feeling strangely uncomfortable at the boy's traitorous mother's name used in front of him. It was foolish, for how could Aki even know yet?

"For many long months, and still to this day, I think of ways in which I could have altered things. If I had stayed by Mera's side at all times, but..." He sighed. "The truth is that she could have been taken from me in any way at any time, considering our work."

She nodded in understanding as he met her gaze again. The life of an Elite was always dangerous. That was half the source of her fears regarding John, whose own life was far from safe.

He could have been injured today and she would not know of it.

He could have been killed...

"If I had the ability," Massa continued, "I would change it all. But, I do not have that power. I look at Aki," he looked down at the boy, "and I wonder what would have happened to him if I had not been free to raise him. He would have been cared for, but not by me. Aki and I have both lost those who should always love us, but together we can recover, grow stronger."

Teyla nodded, words lost to her.

Massa looked back round to her. "This pain will never leave me, but if I had the power to save myself from the pain but in doing so have never loved Mera?" He shook his head. "I would never give up her love."

Teyla held his gaze, his conviction so powerful she swore she could feel it in the air around him.

"It is frightening," she whispered her confession, "being vulnerable."

Massa nodded. "It was not always easy for Mera and I; risking our lives yet fearing for one another's safety." His eyes lowered. "I always knew it would be for a short time, that our life together would never be as long as that enjoyed by others who are not Elite. Yet, our work provided that longevity for others in their lives."

She nodded.

"It is a great risk, loving another and hoping they will love you in turn," he said softly, and she nodded. She felt such gratitude to be able to speak of this subject, for normally Elite did not speak of such things; to speak of vulnerabilities and pain; to confess that you worried over another's thoughts and love for you.

How much did John love her? And had that love been damaged beyond repair by her past actions? Would he risk loving her? Could they love and yet live apart for half of the year? She would always be fearing for his life; it would never let up.

"As Elite we face the prospect of death routinely, but, in truth, we are all vulnerable," Mass stated. "I remind the Recruits frequently that they are vulnerable, that they risk death with each step in a mission. I tell them the truth not to frighten them, but instead to remind them to be aware of each moment, to live each moment well and as thoroughly as possible. To be an Elite means to go into dangerous places despite our vulnerability; that is bravery."

She nodded again, thoughtful now, pondering the truth of his wise words. Was loving John and risking her heart akin to walking into a dangerous nest of Wraith? She knew she would not turn away from such a mission against the Wraith. Why should it be different with love?

"You are one of the bravest Elite I know," Massa told her, surprising her. "You fight with everything you have; your body and your powerful Seeker mind. I do not think you realise how brave you are to fight a Wraith Queen in her mind. Even some of the strongest Elite I know would not dare step there with you."

She had not thought of such fear among her colleagues, but then she had always been a Seeker, feeling the presence of Wraith from her earliest memories. Her Gift had not helped save Mother, but developing her mind further in battle as an Elite had helped save other mothers; of that she was certain.

She knew without asking that Father would never regret a moment of his time with Mother, even if it would save him the pain of having lost her now. Like Massa, he carried the pain, and Teyla wondered that perhaps her own fear was buried in having been a witness to that pain for so long.

Perhaps her fears concerning John were not actually rooted in the possible distraction from her Elite focus, but in being an Athosian woman who had lost her mother and had witnessed her father's resulting deep hurt for the many years since.

In her experience, love led to loss and pain, and the Elite training to distance oneself from emotional attachments had hardly helped.

Her original intention to break her ties from John for a Political Marriage had been her way of taking charge of his new power in her life, and in preparation for the predicted pain of either losing him to death or in his walking away from her. By forcing the end of their relationship, she had thought herself in control of that fear, controlling the way he left her life.

The truth opened up before her, bringing relief in its honesty, but also shone a light on her very deepest fears. It was an old wound, losing Mother, one she had thought she had dealt with long ago, yet here it was affecting her in ways she had not realised until now.

So many years spent training hard to become an Elite, to be focused and skilled at the exclusion of so much of a 'normal' human experience, but no amount of training would make her less human.

She would still hurt when she lost things she wanted to hold onto. Still fear that which could harm her, and shy away from that which pressed old painful wounds inside her.

Without intending, John had triggered all those soft human parts of her.

She reached out and touched her hand to Massa's knee, squeezing the large bunched muscles in silent thankfulness of his wisdom. She had no words to express more while caught up in the raw vulnerable clarity of her epiphany.

She had much to think about.

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TBC


	5. The Passing of Time

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 **Chapter 5 – The Passing of Time**

 _Outside Alliance Territory_

Hopeful intensity hummed through the mental link of the Cruiser, teasing at Long Sleep as he contemplated the latest reading of The Signal, which the receivers had started to pick up a few short days ago.

Its pulsing rhythm had been slightly broken in its cycles, perhaps either due to interstellar interference or that the transmitter that was its origin was faulty. Long Sleep suspected the latter, as the signal was more complete today than it had been yesterday, implying that its transmitter was healing.

Calculating the direction of the transmission had revealed the location of its source; or at least their best estimation at this time. Long Sleep requested up the map of the region of space in question again, the holographic display forming above the console. There was little in that region other than a few empty drifting worlds and a large asteroid field that was best left well avoided.

As was the fact that enemy territory lay in the way. It would normally only take a day or two to reach the target area by hyperspace, but with the enemy in the way, the best route was to creep around the edges of enemy space.

Long Sleep hated giving such importance to the enemy's territory, but if he wanted to keep his small gathering's remaining ships from destruction, they had to be cautious. The enemy was dangerous, and historically they dealt with infractions into their territory with particular venom. The enemy's watchtower satellites around their territory were large in number and interconnected so that if one went dead the alarm would be raised quickly. However, Long Sleep knew how far out from the sensor gazes of those satellites he could run his ships, keeping a safe distance from the territory line but also following it as closely as possible to slingshot round towards the signal's source.

Some of the others in the gathering thought him overly cautious and would prefer to use full thrust and run far closer to the territory line. It was a stupid suggestion, which Long Sleep had crushed with logic and persistence. The gathering did seem to respect his intelligence and calmer mind, and they were all still quite drained and pained at the loss of their Queens.

What had also helped him contain their enthusiasm to rush to the source of the signal had been his suggestion that it could be a trap. That had given them pause.

He frowned at the holographic display. It would be a good location for a trap by the Armoured Herd. It was close to their territory for support to arrive, and the nearby asteroid field could obscure all manner of watching ships or sensors.

However, it was also a good place for a Hive ship to hide and send out its calling signal.

A signal only ever sent when a Queen needed support.

A Queen and her Hive in need of warriors and ships.

It was just what Long Sleep and his gathering had hoped for, and here it was in the form of the pulsing distant signal calling them in.

The hopeful temptation of it pulled at Long Sleep just as it did the others, but he did not indulge in the fantasy of a new Queen's mind waiting for him. Not yet.

It could be a trap, the enemy looking to collect up those who had escaped the destruction of the Queens' Gathering.

He dissolved down the hologram and once more watched the signal flare across the thick web display.

His worries aside, it was possible that this was truly a Queen looking for another gathering, to pull warriors and drones to her; those looking to find a new home and Queen.

If so, it would mean that he could serve again. He could feel the feminine touch of command and wisdom across his synapses once more.

They could be strong again.

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 _Atlantis_

The sheets were fresh under Carson as he was assisted back onto his hospital bed and back against the raised, freshly covered pillows. He knew the routine too well now, not only from the twice daily repeats, but from his own training and experience as the medic on the other side.

He settled back against the pillows carefully, trying to find the most comfortable position, while Jennifer fussed over arranging the fresh blankets over him carefully.

The smell of the room was starting to get to him; the smell of his own burnt skin, the stink of the thick Elite ointment, the antiseptics, and even the smell of the daily fresh sheets. It all combined into a 'sickness' smell that went right up his nose and stung and overwhelmed him. Though, admittedly, it was also likely that the sensitivity was because the insides of his nostrils were damaged from exposure to the fire in the explosion; that they were literally burnt inside.

Everything else was certainly sensitive and uncomfortable. Sitting, lying down, breathing, and just moving was painful. There were moments when he wanted to cry out and scream in frustration, or turn the lights all off and hideaway pretending it all hadn't happened; that wasn't happening to him. Only at the same time, bizarrely, it all felt very distant and disassociated from him. Which he knew wasn't a good sign, but he just couldn't seem to care.

As always when such thoughts and feelings started to hit him, he looked past Jennifer and the visiting Elite Healer towards the open doorway beyond the end of his bed which looked out into the Infirmary beyond.

In a clearly traumatised obsession, he was still expecting to see Marie pass across through the rectangular patch of Infirmary that was all he could ever see. He kept fixating on the view, watching to see if her smile, honest and kind as it always was, might reappear.

Except, his friend and colleague was never going to appear again. Ever.

He hadn't even been able to see her body before she had been taken back to Earth for burial. But then, he also knew that if he had seen her, what had been left of her would have been an unrecognisable burnt husk.

That imagined view of her haunted him just as much as he waited to see her ghost smiling in at him from the Infirmary as if nothing had happened. As if this were all just a nightmare and he would wake up soon.

And life would continue on as it had, and his friend would be back alive and well. But, that wasn't going to happen. Marie was gone, as were the others killed that day. More than there should have been because of his actions.

He knew he hadn't killed Marie, that she had chosen to stay with him in the OR, but it still felt like he was responsible. That it was his fault.

And the fact that she wasn't ever going to appear through that view of the Infirmary again...it made him hurt so deep inside that no amount of burns or fractures could compete with the pain.

He would never see Marie again.

That fact was somewhat emphasised today by the fact that Carson could see only the Elite sentry stood outside the open doorway. The young man visited with the Elite Healer every day, and stood outside each time, stood back at a respectful angle, but one that always kept the Healer in his view.

Carson idly recognised the Elite, the young man having been in the city before his new duties. His light brown hair and eyes matched his armour, and he looked too young to be what he was.

They were all too young to face what they had to.

At the young Elite's side, John moved into view, a pudding cup in his hand, no doubt acquired from a patient who hadn't wanted the sweet end of their meal. John lifted a loaded spoon to his mouth as he said something around it to the Elite warrior. The younger man's attention shifted slightly onto John, his eyes lowering to the pudding cup. John lifted it in offering, but the man shook his head and looked back into the room towards Carson's carers.

John looked in at the same time and he smiled cheerfully at Carson.

They were all doing that - smiling a little too brightly, too happily.

Carson returned the smile as best he could manage, physically and emotionally. The smile grew more real though as he saw John hold his spoon in his mouth and give Carson a thumbs up.

They were all so kind to him, and part of him wanted to tell them that, to say things he normally would, but it all felt too difficult.

His gaze shifted away from John and the watching Elite and once again returned to his obsessive waiting for Marie. Wishing, just once, that she would step into view again.

But, she was gone and he had failed her.

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 _Trader Bar – Outside Alliance Space_

It was a favoured bar for traders like him, most of them exchanging trading deals, hashing out small grievances or tempting partnerships in some newly discovered spice trade or such. But, it was mostly a place to sit and relax with one's own kind.

That the watering hole was on a world outside of Alliance space did not overly concern Elkaska. He had been visiting this planet and similar since long before the days of the Alliance, and he had helped play his part in the Alliance's formation with connections in this very bar and others like it. Here he felt comfortable and able to be a very honest version of himself.

He'd been spending more time on Athos of late, and as much as he found himself enjoying the family time, it was time spent being on his best behaviour. Torren would probably be shocked to think that Elkaska's best behaviour, but it was. Here, Elkaska could put his feet up, metaphorically speaking, and just be the experienced trader, albeit one with military and political connections. Some traders, usually those of the less than savoury variety, avoided him entirely since he was known as a relative of the great Elite Warrior Emmagan. Most didn't care of course, since he had been around these bars and on trading runs since long before Teyla had been born.

He contemplated the frosted glass cup in his hand, the red liquid inside relatively unchanged in flavour in all the years he had been coming here. He had drunk one too many today, the alcoholic buzz lingering through his veins, but it was not enough to come close to affecting his senses. It just brought with it a warm peace.

A crowd of far more intoxicated traders roared and laughed across the far side of the bar, their alcove set back to one side, out of Elkaska's view. He wasn't interested in them, or what they were celebrating, he had been gathering far more useful information.

The latest of such resources of information was approaching, on time, or relatively so. Traders had their own relaxed time keeping, except when it came to pitching times in market halls.

"Elk," Stroat grinned as he slid onto the bench on the other side of the table from Elkaska.

"Stro," Elkaska returned to the missing toothed grin the old trader sent to him. "Drink?"

"I need a clear head," Stroat replied as he adjusted his coat around him as he settled back in his seat.

"Hawk run, huh?" Elkaska asked.

Stroat pulled a face. "You know I don't go in for such smuggling routes."

Elkaska smiled as he lifted his glass and took another mouthful of the sweet liquid.

Stroat and he had been trading competitors with a heavy weight of respect for more years than Elkaska wanted to start to count. Stroat had a less legal side to his business, nothing too worrying, but he dabbled where Elkaska had no desire to go, but they had helped each other many times over the years. Stroat had a way of being able to get hold of information that Elkaska had passed on to the Elite, and Stroat in return had avoided one or two small sentences on Alliance planets.

"I didn't expect you to be back here for awhile," Stroat said. "Being your family is now working with the people of Atlantis no less. Those Elite just keep on stretching out don't they?"

"It is a trade of skills and military knowledge that will make a real difference against the Wraith," Elkaska commented without any real force.

"And, of course, bring in tradable goods from another planet, another galaxy no less," Stroat leant forward. "I wonder who will have their hand in that, huh?"

Elkaska sipped some more drink, his eyes on Stroat over the cup. "It is early days, but I might be looking to spread some goods in time."

Stroat nodded and glanced away, but clearly he was pleased at the subtle suggestion of future trading. "Could be a good deal, long as the Wraith don't just kill everyone first or the Genii don't break up the contract."

"They have their own distractions," Elkaska noted.

"One of which who has not held to ground as much of late," Stroat replied his voice softening slightly.

Kolya. Stroat was one of only a few traders that Elkaska was tapping for information for Teyla and the Elite regarding the excommunicated Genii Commander.

"Seems over the last week or so that his Genii have started visiting a lot more planets. They're keeping a generally low profile, but they have been noticed."

"Any indication why?"

"Noting obvious, but one of my sons was approached by one Genii and asked a handful of random questions; Though one of the questions stood out to him, a question about whether Atlantis had visited the planet, when and how many individuals."

Elkaska set his elbows on the tabletop and made sure not to give away the worried shift to his stomach. Teyla had told him Kolya had tried to kill John on more than one occasion.

"I shall make note of that," Elkaska nodded to Stroat.

"I have heard that you are trading a new writing implement from Atlantis?" Stroat asked, clearly what he had been building up to.

Elkaska smiled at him as he reached into his inner coat and pulled out one of the slim plastic pens. "Such as this?"

Stroat took the pen with experienced eyes. These pens were making good trade already.

Elkaska pulled out the pencil next and handed it over. "There is this one as well – charcoal like nib wrapped in wood, able to be sharpened easily."

Stroat took the pencil with great interest, testing both implements on the back of his hand and then on the table top. "How many units you selling at a time?"

"How many do you want?" Elkaska asked.

Stroat pulled a face of intent consideration, pretending that he didn't already have a number in mind. "They might not trade well outside the Alliance. I might look for a hundred or so."

Elkaska inclined his head thoughtfully, knowing full well that Stroat would want more than that. "I could get you half that this week for the same price as the tea last month."

Stroat frowned. "That was expensive high class tea."

"These are new writing implements from another galaxy, don't pretend the mark-up you would add to them wouldn't be considerable."

Stroat frowned at the pen, but he was turning it with interest, studying the design, no doubt working out how to replicate it. "What if I were to have some other information that you might be interested in trading in return for the full hundred units?"

Elkaska was a little surprised, but held his reaction in check with barely any effort. "What information might I want that would be worth so much?" He asked, rather curious in what the answer might be.

"You've heard of Esna Toshka?"

"Of course I have," Elkaska scoffed. Everyone connected with the Alliance had known of the highly placed and successful businessman with political links, but especially so now following his recent very public arrest. "His name and face have been awash across the Alliance news links."

"An arrest that has had quite an effect on certain players in the trading networks." By which Stroat meant the smuggling networks. "Some slinking away nervously fearful that the Alliance will come looking for them next, but others have reacted more akin to being freed from prison."

Elkaska could guess why. Toshka had a lot of fingers in a lot of schemes. The man had approached Elkaska a few times years ago, clearly looking for a way of manipulating someone close to not only Teyla but the Athosian halls of power. The problem for Toshka had been that anything he had thought he had known about the secret and more interesting parts of Elkaska's life, were parts linked with the Elite and Military who would willing protect Elkaska without question. Therefore, Toshka had nothing to use over Elkaska as 'persuasion' and Toshka had stopped trying quickly enough. Elkaska had seen Toshka's type before and had been in no way surprised about the dark dealings that had been discovered.

"And?" Elkaska prompted, wondering what Stroat thought he might have that would be useful.

"I have heard some things said when too much mead and spirit had flowed," Stroat tempted him.

"Such as?" Elkaska pushed as Stroat wanted, but not enjoying the role.

Stroat drew idly on the table top with his new pencil. "Things that perhaps have bothered me, things I would prefer someone with more reach than I could address."

"Someone you could sell the information to," Elkaska translated.

"I have to make a living," Stroat replied. "And this information is worth two hundred of these writing implements."

"One hundred and half units, and you throw in a case of that high class tea," Elkaska countered.

Stroat pulled a face.

Elkaska sipped the last part of his drink and waited. Stroat would counter with something.

"One hundred units this week and half a case of the tea."

"Alright," Elkaska conceded, surprised at the deal. Stroat wanted this information sold it seemed.

Stroat glanced aside into the bar. He was nervous.

"It is very important," Stroat stressed quietly, "that no one knows this information came from me. They will know it was me, for I was the only one there not of their crew. Two of the crew have died already this week."

"Truly?" Elkaska asked.

"Not for this information, but their crowd...you do something they don't think...honourable...and any excuse will do."

Elkaska nodded. Stroat clearly had involved himself with some real unsavoury sorts. "No one will know this was from you but me." If it was even all that useful.

Stroat reached out with the pencil and drew some circles on the table again, this time closer to Elkaska. "These people, they have been making more currency of late, grown their reputation and with it their arrogance. They even have a new ship in their 'trading' business."

Smuggling business.

"Where did they get the ship?" Elkaska asked. Most smuggler ships were second or third hand, as new ships drew unwanted attention. Most smugglers would also see it as a waste to spend currency on a new ship that required the most up-to-date parts. Better to have a more reliable and well tested ship in which any variety of spare parts would work.

"Given to them I heard," Stroat replied as he glanced up from his doodling. "They apparently have it to run ship parts out of the Alliance. Big ship sized parts – hull plating, conduit housing, engine parts, and even a few Fleet grade weapons."

Elkaska frowned worriedly. Teyla had said there was new trading of Military hardware that the Elite were looking into.

"Ship part smuggling is hardly new," Elkaska commented quietly.

"Not on this scale," Stroat insisted quietly. "And not high class military ware. It seems it is all going to one place and staying there too. Kolya's Genii have a loose relationship with the crew, trading for some pieces of the smaller they want and swapping in what they don't want."

"Do you know where the parts are being sent?"

"No, not the coordinates, but I know the region they refer to, which only holds a few systems. It is outside the Alliance, but these individuals let slip that they have been keeping track of the parts and estimate that eight ships at least could be almost entirely constructed from the pieces. They were particularly pleased in finding out that some pieces were itemised as having belonged to the Elite." Stroat's eyes lifted to Elkaska's. "I thought your family might be interested in that."

It could be misinformation, it could be lies or even that Stroat himself was being used to bait the Elite and Teyla. But it was still information worth passing to Teyla.

"If you supply the name of the region, and the systems inside in question, I will trade you one hundred and half units of both the pens and pencils," Elkaska offered. Stroat's expression brightened. "And the promise that if you hear anything further on this that you tell me and me alone."

Stroat nodded as he sat back. "I am more than happy to pass on the information and not have anyone else know. If I could erase the memories I would."

"You are that afraid of them?" Elkaska asked.

"These are people with few brains and large fists," Stroat commented. "Now they are getting vast amounts of currency and their connections in the Alliance steal from the Elite. These are men who are already trouble, imagine what will happen once the Elite find them."

"I suggest you remove yourself from their sphere of influence then," Elkaska advised, knowing the advice would be ignored.

"I am in too deep and they would notice," Stroat excused his own greed. He had a conscience at least, or was it all lies to draw in the Elite? Or was he, perhaps wisely, foreseeing his own fall and was hoping to turn information now for future immunity with the Elite.

"Thank you, Stroat," Elkaska offered though. "You arrange a time to visit Athos in the next week and I will ensure the units are ready for your collection."

Stroat nodded with clear eagerness.

"And don't forget the half case of tea," Elkaska drank the last few drops left in his glass as he rose from his seat.

"You dropped the tea in the trade," Stroat protested lightly.

"I have guests from another galaxy to entertain, I need good high class tea," Elkaska smiled as he moved away from the table.

He had no real information yet, assuming that Stroat's intell, once given in return for his pens and pencils, would be correct or useful to Teyla. However, it was important to share it with her and the intell that Kolya was looking for Atlantis personnel outside the Alliance. It was important that nothing happened to John Sheppard, not just for the treaty and contract between Atlantis and the Alliance, but particularly for Teyla.

This information could be very well timed.

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TBC


	6. The Answers in Waiting

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 **Chapter 6 – The Answers in Waiting**

 _Atlantis_

John watched as the Elite Doc and Isen, the Healer's Elite bodyguard, walked away towards the Gate. The two daily visitors stepped into the event horizon, disappearing in an instant, leaving only ripples across the strange watery surface of the wormhole. John watched the human shaped ripples moving outwards soon be lost in the normal shimmering surface. Some days his head hurt thinking about what he was looking at. He'd tried to read some of the science behind it, interested but also to try to throw Rodney off guard with some sudden science knowledge. He hadn't gotten far, because it was crazy. A tunnel outside of normal space time cutting across galaxies in an instant? How crazy was his life now?

Thing was that he'd gotten used to it, not that it didn't still amaze him, but travelling to other planets was an ordinary occurrence for him now. Hell, he had an alien wife and In-Laws on another planet!

Some days he had to wonder if he'd actually hit his head and gotten stuck out on the ice back in Antarctica and this was actually some fevered dream or coma he was locked in. How had this become normal to him?

Not that his life these last two weeks was normal, even for him. He hadn't been off world once and he'd spent his days writing IOA reports in answer to all their random unending lists of questions. The only thing that broke up that stressed boredom was meeting the Elite Healer and her guard, Isen, twice a day and escorting them to the Infirmary. It at least allowed him set times to see Carson each day, see that Rodney went off to have lunch and dinner during those times, and also to keep working on his project to get Isen to crack a smile.

The guy was young, most likely just out of his training, but judging by the few little nicks John had spotted on the kid's light brown body armour, he'd seen some action. But, clearly babysitting the healer everyday and quietly standing around in Atlantis couldn't be fun for the guy. John stuck to the kid's side during the visits and attempted to keep him entertained whilst also fishing for some intell from the Elite. The problem was that Isen was clearly one of those 'by the book' new Elite who felt he didn't need to say much at all and seemed happy standing around in silence as he watched the Elite doc do her thing for Carson.

He didn't show an indication of being bored with the constant unchanging routine. John wished he didn't, but at least he had the small challenge of trying to get a few words out of Isen each visit; and one day he'd get a smile out of the kid. Something other than polite simple sentences.

If Isen thought this was how Elite behaved for real then he hadn't spent as much time with them as John had. Or maybe it was just that the Elite from the Sythus were a chattier bunch.

He wished Isen were more chatty, because he really wanted to ask about Teyla. It felt awkward and obvious to just come out and ask about her, and besides would that seem needy or perhaps imply that he didn't know where his wife was? If Isen was a low level new Elite, not that John had seen any indication of a hierarchy among the Elite, would Isen even know what Teyla was up to?

And Isen might be surprised that John didn't know where Teyla was, and that might not look good. Not that John had a clue what 'looking good' politically meant with the Elite or the Alliance. More damn questions.

Teyla had said she would give him some link code to use at some point which would enable him to contact her, but he'd not heard from her since he'd left the Sythus. Well, other than the Elite's Healer telling him that Teyla had asked for her to personally attend to Carson's care. Isen, in one of his longest sentences, had said that this healer was one of the best there was in all the Alliance; which meant that Teyla had pulled some strings, or probably just asked since she was that influential. Still, it was nice to hear she had wanted to help out.

It would be nice to call her and say thank you. Maybe see how she was, ask what she was up to.

"Major!" Sumner's gruff bark broke John out of his thoughtful stare at the now deactivated Gate. When had it shut down?

He needed to get some sleep.

But for now, clearly his presence was demanded by the Colonel. He turned and looked up the wide steps overlooking the Gate. Sumner was already moving through the Control Room, past the computers and Ancient consoles, looking like he was heading towards the walkway towards Carter's office.

John jogged up the steps and followed the Colonel, moving quickly but keeping it casual so as not appear to be rushing to Sumner's orders like he was scared of the man or anything. Or that he was eager to hear if there anything new from Earth.

Though, it was more likely that the IOA had just sent through their latest list of questions for the day.

Except, as John crossed the walkway in Sumner's footsteps, he saw that something had definitely changed – Woolsey was back from Earth and was sat in a chair across from Colonel Carter.

Seeing the suited man gave John a rush of hope and anxiety – were they finally getting an answer from the IOA? What had they decided? Was it all over? Was he fired?

He squashed down all the agitated questions as he reached the glass door, which, oddly, Sumner was still holding open for him. John slipped in through the door and into Colonel Carter's office.

"Major," she smiled at him alone, "Mr Woolsey returned while you were down in the Infirmary. We didn't want to interrupt the Healer's visit."

John nodded as he stood alongside Sumner across from her desk and tried to remain calm.

"How is Dr Beckett doing?" Woolsey asked.

"He's doing better," John reported, "he's still responding well to treatment."

"It's going to be a long road to recovery," Carter put in with the knowledge of an experienced soldier.

"What's the latest from the IOA?" Sumner cut through the conversation, glaring down at Woolsey.

Woolsey turned slightly in his seat, adjusting his tie as he looked up at John and Sumner.

John worked not to panic.

"I'm afraid to say," Woolsey began and John's heart started hammering in his chest, "that I was not privy to all of the IOA's discussions. The new contract kicked up something of a storm back home, with committee after committee meetings, Homeland Security heavily involved, and the President weighing in." John tried not to cringe. "The IOA has been gathering information-"

"Yeah, we noticed that," John put in with a glance to Carter.

"There's not going to be any more questions today," she told him. Did that mean it was all over? Had the IOA decided to pull out of the contract?

"They finally run out of hot air, huh?" Sumner said gruffly and Woolsey winced.

"That is not the best attitude to have Colonel once their representatives arrive tomorrow," Woolsey told them.

"IOA people?" Sumner asked clearly unhappy at the prospect, but interested now.

John held still, waiting.

"They are sending their representatives for an official meet and greet with Athos and the Elite," Woolsey reported. "They sent me ahead to brief you all and prepare the way for their arrival tomorrow."

John let out a stressed relief breath. The IOA were supporting the contract?

"The IOA are sending a four person team through to Midway today and they'll arrive here tomorrow," Carter put in. "Do you know who they're sending?" Carter asked Woolsey.

Woolsey shifted in his seat. "I'm afraid I don't. I believe they were still deciding when I left for Midway yesterday." There was a 24 hour quarantine period for anyone moving through the new Midway station, so Woolsey had actually left Earth yesterday, which meant the IOA lot would likely be in Midway right now.

"So, we'll only find out when they arrive tomorrow," Carter frowned.

"Power games," Sumner muttered. "You want full bells and whistles tomorrow?"

"A full Gate Room," Carter nodded. "We might as well put on a show and make them feel welcomed."

John couldn't say he was looking forward to the IOA representatives appearing and having to no doubt play Ambassador himself, but it was good news. "They've finally decided on something," he muttered, the fact almost surreal he'd been waiting for it so long.

"From what I was able to ascertain," Woolsey replied to him, "there was widespread agreement that this new contract with the Alliance and the Elite will be beneficial, but the details of how we go about using it, how Atlantis is now managed and so forth, is still up in the air."

That didn't sound as good.

"It's to be expected," Carter put in quickly, "we've just gone from a money draining distant outpost to possibly the most important outpost for Earth right now."

Woolsey agreed. "Which means even more eyes on us."

"We might start getting more support," Sumner considered.

"And more bureaucracy with it," Carter returned. "This is an IOA run outpost, and I imagine that things have just gotten a lot more interesting between them and Homeworld Security," she glanced at Woolsey.

Woolsey nodded. "There has always been a careful balance between the IOA and the military, and I suspect that the strategic argument won out for Homeworld Security. I know that Russia are very keen on the contract, whilst China and some of Europe are cautious about us assisting the Alliance and spending resources. Financially things are _very_ tight back home right now."

"So more bureaucracy and less support," Sumner grumbled.

"I made the point to the IOA," Woolsey continued, "that actually setting up trade links with the Alliance could bring in income. I have already talked in detail, as you know, with the Athosian Elkaska about what could be of interest in the Alliance. We have a lot of manufacturing back home that could be exporting here to Pegasus. A lot of the physical currency used in the Alliance is made up of gold and silver, and other interesting metals that will actually mean something back home."

Yet again, John was struck by the fact that Woolsey had been thinking further ahead during their visits to Athos. That Woolsey had been working at thinking about these things, helping to push the case for the contract now.

While John had been focused on having fun with Teyla.

"Through Athos, and hopefully further afield with Elkaska's assistance," Woolsey continued, "we have already proven that basic products like kitchenware, fabrics, and even stationery supplies can sell well here."

"I imagine that was a very vital deciding point for the IOA, Richard," Carter nodded with clear approval.

"There are those that do not overly support the contract," Woolsey warned, "But they are in the minority and, well," he shrugged as he adjusted his glasses, "not all that unusual in the IOA." It was the closest he had ever come to criticising the IOA he worked for so passionately. The guy had clearly had Atlantis' back on Earth and was he actually a part of the City now, not just a visitor.

"It's good to have you back," John told him.

Woolsey looked up and round with a smile. "It's good to be back, but I suspect we've all got a great deal of work ahead of us, and perhaps far more direct involvement of the IOA from here onwards."

"If it helps us against the Wraith and setting good strong ties with the Alliance, we'll take it," Carter smiled, but John thought he still saw strain around her eyes. It occurred to him that just because the IOA had agreed to stick with the contract didn't mean they were all going to keep their jobs. In fact, it might be that life here in Atlantis was about to change big time.

Selfishly, he suspected his own job would be safe now because he was the husband in the Political Marriage contract that the IOA now clearly wanted. So they weren't about to send him home. But, Carter? The IOA might be looking to replace her with someone they could better control. It would be crazy in John's mind, since she was the best choice being highly experienced herself but because she could see things from both a military perspective and a science perspective.

They'd just have to see what happened tomorrow when the IOA sent their people through. From there the first order of business would no doubt be visiting Athos, so at least John would get to be useful again.

And he might get to see Teyla again soon.

00000

 _Tjaru - Athos_

Tiredness was hardly anything new for Torren. Its presence was nearly always there on the periphery of his busy and demanding life, but he'd learnt how to deal with it; how to work through the pressure, when to push himself and when to rest. Yet, he was feeling especially tired today.

Following Teyla's wedding, he had been inundated by requests for meetings and trade with Atlantis. He had expected this, but he hadn't predicted just how many would contact him and from such a wide range of institutions. Different worlds and systems had made requests to meet Atlantis ambassadors and officials for opportunities for trade, he'd expected all of that, it was normal. However, he hadn't predicted the influx of requests for contact from educational institutions, businesses, social communities, and religious groups. Everyone in the Alliance now knew for certain that Atlantis was filled with humans from another galaxy, people with unique cultures, histories, philosophies, and technology. Plus, the Ancestral City had a powerful place in legend, even with the wave of anti-Ancestor feelings across the galaxy, the great Ancestral City was a lure of fascination and curiosity.

And now Torren was the conduit to that legend and to the new humans who might help the Elite defeat the Wraith one day.

He should have predicted it really, but then he hadn't been entirely sure that John and Atlantis would make an offer during the Offering Ceremony. Perhaps John himself hadn't known until the moment he had made his offer, but Torren had considered the possibility beforehand. He had prepared a draft of the wedding contract with the correct wording for John and Atlantis if an offer was made. That insight had not only been born of his own suspicion that there had been more between Teyla and John, but also from Sitayi' comments from when she had first met John. She had suggested to Torren that he let Teyla and John have space together. He had interpreted her words to mean that the two would form a friendship that would help bind Atlantis and Alliance, but when Teyla had told him about her decision for a Political Marriage, Torren had suddenly wondered about another possibility. Sitayi had clearly known of the wedding, and had even made sure she was present even after her illness.

Not for the first time did he wish Sitayi could not have simply told him as much, but then, would that have changed matters? Would it have been fair for him to have known about the marriage long before the actual couple? Or had this future been only one of possible futures and Sitayi had not been sure? She certainly had her fears for the future of the Alliance.

Torren frowned down at the scroll laid out before him, which he realised he had been reading for some time but did not recall anything he had read. He exhaled heavily and reached for his teacup, only to find it cold. He had poured the drink at the start of the last meeting, but had forgotten about it through the discussions and then afterwards as he had studied the scroll document left for his consideration.

Or rather his tired lack of study.

He stretched his back, glancing up and around the empty Tea Room. He was not sure when his next meeting was to start, but he knew Hakon would give him plenty of time. So, for a few minutes at least, he could pause and let his mind drift with permission.

He stretched his neck one way and then the other, and pondered, once more, the ongoing absence of Atlantis' visits. He was intending to contact Atlantis again this evening, but he was concerned that John in particular had not visited Tjaru since the wedding.

He had seen John on the links to Atlantis, and the man seemed his usual self, though somewhat tired. Some days, Torren wondered if everyone in the entire galaxy was tired. But, John had seemed well and had his usual good humour. Torren suspected that, despite Colonel Carter's reassurances, that the recent incident in Atlantis had done more damage than they conveyed. At least he hoped that was the reason behind the lack of visits, rather than Atlantis regretting their decision to enter into the Political Marriage contract.

It concerned Torren than Atlantis might decide to step away from the contract, which they could do within the next sixteen days. If so, what would that mean for the hopeful future of the Alliance and Atlantis working together against the Wraith? What would it mean for Teyla?

The doors behind his left shoulder opened and soft footfalls announced Hakon's arrival.

"Hakon," Torren greeted his assistant without looking round, his eyes back on the scroll not wanting to appear tardy in his work even in front of his own assistant.

"Torren," Hakon arrived at his side. "Keltree confirms he will arrive in time for the meeting."

Torren didn't hide his resigned sigh from Hakon. "What time is the meeting?"

Hakon consulted his ever present computer tablet. "Just under an hour from now."

Torren nodded. It at least gave him time to read some more, and perhaps have a little food and to walk in a courtyard.

"Also," Hakon interrupted those plans though, "your Honoured Daughter has arrived back through the Portal."

Delight quickly replaced the resigned apathy that had threatened to set in. "Good," Torren smiled as he stood up from his seat, shaking out his legs to get the blood flowing properly again. "I am glad _Teyla_ is back," he stressed Teyla's given name to Hakon, as he always did.

Hakon consulted his computer again, ignoring the remark, as he also always did. "She was reported as passing through the Gateway ten minutes ago, so she should be arriving shortly."

Torren nodded, running his own calculations in his head as he headed towards the exit out of the Tea Room. "Thank you, Hakon," he said as he left the room, moving swiftly through the corridors, guards opening doors ahead of him, until he reached one corridor that intersected the main central corridor.

As he approached the intersection with the central corridor, he could already hear the doors at the far end being closed by the guards.

He stepped out into the corridor and looked to his left and sure enough his eldest daughter was striding towards him, Ketra padding along behind her heels.

She was dressed in her favoured dark brown coat, the handles of her swords jutting out from behind her shoulders, and her hair braided back from her head. She smiled brightly at seeing him. It was not lost on him that she had been smiling more naturally this last year than she had before. Her years of Elite training from her youth to present had made her a warrior of fame throughout the Alliance and beyond, and helped save so many lives that his pride was incalculable, but it had affected his daughter's openness. That had been changing subtly for some years now, but especially so since John's arrival in her life and since she and Zabetha had resolved matters between them. It pleased him greatly that he had seen his daughters go from estranged and grumbling rivalry to being close as they had been in their childhood, and also that both of them smiled now more freely than before.

"Father," Teyla smiled at him now, surprised at his sudden arrival from a side corridor to meet her. He felt a little pleased that he had timed things so well.

"I am pleased to see you looking so well, Honoured Daughter," he smiled in return as she finally reached him and he lifted his hands to her shoulders.

Her forehead was a warm and contented touch against his own as they greeted one another.

"I was not sure if when you would be returning," he commented as they moved to walk together down the rest of the central corridor. She had returned to Athos last week, but had spent most of her time off world, and had not been here at all for the past few days and nights.

"My work with the Military Council is concluded for the time being," she informed him. "I have no assignments or meetings, as yet, to attend for several days and hoped to spend time with you."

He was touched at her words, pleased that she would set aside time with him. He had worried a little that she might distance herself from him a little following his witnessing her shouted argument with John following their wedding. Torren had never heard her speak so rudely and impolitely since she had been a young child and not yet educated in correct behaviour. Torren had had to reprimand her afterwards, but they had spoken and he had had his deepest suspicions about the true depth of her feelings for John confirmed. Though, she had also made it clear that she was struggling considerably with those feelings and that she had not intended to continue with a romantic relationship with John.

Torren was not sure if that was still her thought process, or how much she had interacted with John since he had returned to Athos following the great recent victory against the Wraith. Torren had subtly asked Teyla questions that would give her the opportunity to supply such information, but she had refrained from filling those opportunities. He suspected her embarrassed about what had happened, but such hiding from feelings was not going to help anyone.

An idea had formed for Torren last week, though in truth it was expected, but it could help with the situation.

"I am glad you are here for a few days, I have several matters that require your attention," he told her.

"Oh?" Teyla asked, surprised he suspected. Clearly she had forgotten about some basic things he had been reminding her.

"The new quarters are ready and the new furniture installed in John's adjoining quarters to yours," he reminded her yet again. "It is best that you move your belongings into your new quarters now while you can oversee matters. I have help ready to assist in moving your furniture, and I had hoped that when Rhakshar's family have their official visit here next month that we can use your old quarters to house some of them."

"Of course," she agreed, but he heard the slightly resistance in her.

"If you are not happy with the wall colours-," he began as they turned into another corridor.

"The new quarters are fine," she replied. "I suppose I have been a little reluctant to move out of my old quarters. They have been my space in the complex since I was young."

Torren nodded, memories flowing. In the early years when Teyla had left as a young girl to join the Elite, he had used to stand in her empty quarters, alone in the silence, surrounded by her abandoned toys and paintings.

"I would not push you, but it is important for the marriage contract that you and John have adjoining quarters. Your new quarters are much larger," he attempted to make her feel better.

"They are very nice quarters," Teyla smiled at him, apparently honestly. "And it is time that I accept the changes that have occurred."

He thought that an interesting comment from her, and somewhat new. Perhaps it was good timing then to mention his other plan.

"I also hoped you would be around for a while so that was can organise the traditional Family First Meal," he started.

She glanced at him as they turned into the short corridor towards the entrance of the family area of the Governing Complex. "I had forgotten about that."

Torren had seeded the idea with her a couple of times, but he had suspected that she had not truly heard his point.

"It is tradition for the whole family to sit to a meal together with the new member of the family following a wedding," he reminded her gently. "And I think it would be nice for John to visit Athos in that context, rather than for political discussions."

Teyla nodded as they moved into the family area; the scents of incense homely and welcoming. Torren could feel his body relax as he moved across the soft carpet towards the dining room, knowing that Hakon would have ordered tea for him and Teyla.

"Inviting John here may also help restart Atlantis' visits to Athos," Teyla commented, having thought the same as him.

"Indeed," Torren agreed as they reached the dining table and both settled down into their usual preferred seats.

"Has anything changed in your link calls to them?" Teyla asked as she adjusted her seat to make way for the swords on her back.

Torren moved to sit back, but Ketra was abruptly at his knees requesting a proper greeting that he had neglected to give her in the corridor. Torren smiled as he cupped the dragon's head in his hands and stroked her cheeks. Ketra let out a bubbling happy noise as she blinked happily up at him.

"No, all appears as it has been these last weeks," he told Teyla. "I spoke with John over link yesterday and he appears well. He asked me to pass along his good wishes to you."

She smiled at that, the expression seeming honest and her eyes bright at the news. However, there was still that touch of restrain in her. Matters then, it seemed, were not resolved between her and John.

"I am glad he is well," she replied. "There is a Military meeting that he is to be invited to attend the day after next, perhaps the Family First Meal could be that afternoon and we can go on to the meeting afterwards in the evening."

Torren was a little surprised at the readily supplied suggestion, having expected to have to talk Teyla into the idea. It was good that she was no longer shying away from the reality of her Political Marriage to John, so perhaps matters were more resolved between them. Or, at the very least, they were no longer shouting at one another.

"I am due to contact Atlantis later," Torren agreed quickly, "I will put it to them this evening and hopefully John will be able to attend."

"Only he and Lieutenant Ford will be invited to the military meeting," Teyla put in. "So perhaps it would help to keep their numbers down for the family meal."

Torren nodded. "I will suggest that to Colonel Carter." Outside the dining room, he heard the entrance door open and the assistant entering with their tea.

Teyla lapsed into silence as the tea was carried in and placed on the table for them. Torren thanked the assistant and watched as Teyla reached down beside her chair and stroked Ketra's long back. Ketra settled into a seated position on the floor right next to Teyla, her long neck reaching right up to Teyla's side.

Torren reached for the tea pot. "Elkaska has returned as well. He said that he was hoping to contact you with some information he is collecting."

Teyla didn't seem surprised by the news as she nodded. "I am glad he will be here for the family meal." She seemed to be very willing for the meal indeed. "How is Charin?" She asked.

"She is well," Torren told her honestly as he set her cup in front of her and then reached for his own. "She tires in the evenings, but that is to be expected at her age and with her heart condition."

"I do worry about her," Teyla confessed as she stroked Ketra's ear.

Torren considered Teyla, sensing a new shift in her. It was not that she would not normally speak of emotional matters, but there seemed something new to her willingness to speak of them today, of her quick acceptance of the new quarters and the traditional Family First Meal to come. He wondered if something had happened.

"She is well enough and the new implant is keeping her heart beating as it should," he reassured her. "The Healers told her she should have years ahead of her."

"But not all that many, I fear," Teyla's dark eyes met his with their more usual warrior's directness.

Torren settled back in his chair, feeling uncomfortable with the prospect of which they spoke. "We can only enjoy the time we do have with her, as I do with you," he added.

She nodded, a faint frown creasing her forehead. "I know that it must be difficult for you to know that I may not have as many years myself, given my work."

Torren glanced down at his teacup. "It is a fact that will not change, and I accept your life choices with pride. Regardless of our work, any of us could pass to the Ancestors any day from illness or injury."

"True," Teyla agreed softly.

Torren considered her. "Is all well, Teyla?"

She lifted her gaze to his immediately and smiled. "I am fine. I have simply been thinking about the past and those lost to the Ancestors."

Torren could understand the timing. "Weddings are times to think upon such thoughts. Your Mother would be very pleased with both your and Zabetha's choices of husbands."

A half smile pulled at her lips. He had told her before that her Mother would have approved of her choice, but he suspected it had not truly been heard until now. "You think Mother would have liked John?"

"Very much," Torren stated. "She always liked those who cared of others' thoughts, but were strong in their opinions."

"I am glad you think so," She replied, the pretence now long gone between them that she and John were anything more than simply friends. Or at least that they had been more. Torren toyed with asking her directly, but felt it perhaps overstepping his role as father. Teyla seemed more emotionally open and expressive today and he did not want to push matters and cause her to withdraw.

"I can see that John is careful in how he speaks to people," Torren remarked instead. "He likes to make humorous comments to smooth over social situations."

"He would say it is because he doesn't know what to say," Teyla put in, again with a half smile.

"Why do you think us politicians smile and speak of the weather so frequently in meetings?" He admitted.

She chuckled lightly as she picked up her tea. "I cannot imagine you not knowing what to say, Father." If only that were true.

"I learnt a long time ago," he told her, "that no one knows what to say all the time. The best approach I have found is to use a mix of honesty and politeness in such moments."

She sipped her tea. "Wise advice to remember," she considered, the point seeming particularly relevant to her in some way. Perhaps she was thinking of John once again.

Silence fell gently between them, and Torren could see for certain that something weighed upon Teyla's thoughts. She did not seem lost or full of worry as she had appeared before her wedding, but now seemed more quietly thoughtful, as if working on some inner puzzle that only she knew how to complete.

He decided it best to leave it to her to choose if she needed help with it.

"Are Halling and Si visiting Athos as well?" He asked to change the subject and he always liked to ask after the other Elite warriors of Athos.

"I believe Si will be staying in Tjaru, though he has some work to follow up on while the Sythus is undergoing repairs," she answered. "Halling," she paused and frowned, "seems to be rather distracted with matters of late. He decided to remain as the lead on the Sythus while she is in dock."

"Is Halling well?" Torren had never heard her speak of Halling in any other way than with pleased smiles, or occasionally with reports of an injury. Torren had known Halling since the man had been a child with overly long limbs and deeply thoughtful expressions. Before he had left to become an Elite.

Teyla frowned heavily at the question, clearly concerned about Halling. "I believe so. I had hoped to tempt him to visit Athos for time back home, but he could not promise that he would. If he does, I have no doubt he will visit you."

"He and Si are always welcome, any Elite are," Torren reminded her.

"I know," she smiled at him, and he felt that this time she was the one seeing truths in him. She glanced down at her tea. "Do you have meetings for the rest of the day?"

"Yes," Torren sighed. "Keltree should be here shortly."

Teyla pulled a sympathetic face. "I hope the meeting goes well." Torren smiled, but doubted it would be the case. Keltree was one of the most demanding of men that Torren had ever met.

"Is Charin here?" Teyla asked, her mind returning to her concerns there perhaps.

"She is with her cousin in the city," Torren confirmed, glancing at the time to see when Keltree would arrive. He had a little more time with Teyla.

"Once Keltree is here, I shall visit them," Teyla decided. "They have both asked me to join them working on the garden, and I would rather enjoy such an activity today."

He was a little surprised in that detail, but Teyla had loved to play among the courtyards flowerbeds and in the forest as a child.

"I am sure they will both enjoy your company and appreciate your assistance."

"I will make sure to return for Late Meal," she promised. "Are Zabetha and Rhakshar here?"

"They are away visiting his parents, but will return tomorrow."

"You have been alone here then," she remarked, seeming concerned for him.

"It is not hugely uncommon now that Zabetha is married, but they spend most of their days here, so I am rarely alone," he reassured her. He rather liked some solace at times, but also missed his family greatly when they were away for a prolonged period.

"I am looking forward to the Family First Meal," he considered, "having everyone here to welcome John."

She nodded and smiled, but her attention had shifted inward again, working on that inner puzzle of hers. He would imagine that gardening, working on the plants and soil, would suit her mood today and let her mind wander freely. He was not sure what weighed upon her, which might be military matters that he could never know, but he suspected the source of her thoughts centred around her new husband.

The Family First Meal was indeed going to be very interesting.

000000  
TBC


	7. The Honesty of Friends

**Note:** Thank you everyone for reading, and to those who reviewed, I have responded to those I could through the website. For those I could not – thank you and I am glad people are enjoying this fic. A frequent question I am being asked is whether John and Teyla will be meeting up in this fic...yes, I promise you they will. After all, this fic is entitled "Recovery", for so many characters. Speaking of which, here's another finding his way today...

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 **Chapter 7 – The Honesty of Friends**

 _Alliance Central Planet - Aria_

It was the very early hours of the morning, so the Investigation Division Building was quiet, but not empty. The most eager of the day staff were starting to arrive at their desks, but the rest would take a while yet.

Oneakka had visited the headquarters of Division each day, varying the times of his arrival so as not to allow Robiah any form of routine. Though Robiah had proven himself somewhat useful in the field with the Quantum situation, Oneakka still didn't like the man. But, Robiah was the Division department lead assigned to assist Oneakka in assessing and following through on any and all data filtered out of the Dreamstation and Esna Toshka's databases.

However, the truth was that the databases would take Division and Enforcement perhaps years to fully investigate, but Oneakka was keeping the focus on links with The Traitor and those who had worked with her, and anything linked to Kolya now as well.

Robiah had been useful so far, though clearly felt pressured in working with Oneakka, but a bit of pressure never hurt a Division officer. Besides, Oneakka would prefer the side-walking analyst and manipulator be supervised in this work, because Division had a way of making information disappear that served them to be lost. Oneakka had his own copies of both the Dreamstation and Toshka's databases, so was keeping a close track of everything, and doing his own research alongside Division's.

Still, the daily visits and analysis was getting boring. Spending time in the boxed offices of Division was not how he preferred to spend his time, but it had at least been something to focus on.

This morning, Oneakka had arrived in the Division headquarters at dawn so that he would be here well before any of Robiah's staff. He had purposefully entered the Investigation Building via the adjoining building, but hadn't come up to Robiah's office straight away.

Instead he had done what he had wanted to do for a while now. He had visited Division's actual research archives, the data storage of everything Division's agents and analysts had found and recorded. It was a temperature controlled centrally housed databank with only two terminals, but into which all the analysts could access from their assigned terminals. However, Oneakka had suspected for some time that there were areas of the archives that were highly restricted and only viewable by the higher level Division analysts, like Robiah. So, today, Oneakka had decided it was time he went straight to the source of Division's recorded intelligence and took some direct copies of his own.

As an Elite he had exclusive access to everything, nothing should be denied his request, but officially he should work through Robiah, which he had, but he was interested in what Robiah hadn't shared to date; either because he hadn't thought the original source material was reliable, he hadn't thought details necessary in his reports, he might wish to conceal a source still out in the field, or perhaps he just hadn't wanted it shared. Division had the right to withhold information that was considered highly confidential and might risk high level sources. They weren't supposed to conceal such information from the Elite, but then they were allowed an element of discernment on what they shared. So, with that in mind, Oneakka had decided to finally go to the hub of all the intelligence Division had on certain individuals.

He also wanted to gain that information without Robiah knowing about it, not that he would be punished in any way for the act, but Oneakka preferred this to be quiet.

It had also provided him with the opportunity to test a new way of concealing entry and gaining deep level access into a database. The hack programme was actually Seeal's that she had used on the Sythus, which the ship technicians had been able to isolate and study afterwards. This little hack hadn't been shared outside the Sythus team, and since Seeal's hack - or rather one of her hacks - had been so successful on the Sythus' supposedly advanced computers, it was interesting to see if it would work on the Division archive.

The hack had appeared to work well and he had copied the three blocks of intelligence data that he had wanted from the archive and withdrew. He'd then proceeded, the hour still early, through the Division building and up to Robiah's personal little office. He'd then used the hack again to get into Robiah's personal computer terminal, wondering if this time it would flag up to security, but no one came running. Ten minutes spent poking around Robiah's terminal gave up nothing interesting that Oneakka didn't already know, so he had settled himself on a chair in one corner of Robiah's office to read through what he'd copied from the archive.

His boots up on the end of Robiah's excessively massive desk and away from the open door to the open plan department outside, he had free time to read and to wait for Robiah and his staff to come in to work for the day. How quickly they arrived and their manner would tell him if the hack had been discovered.

For now though, Oneakka had the place to himself, the light low and the office silent. So, he settled down to find out what he'd copied from the archive.

The first set of information related to The Traitor and he was pleased to see that there was nothing here that he hadn't already known about. Division had been very open with everything that they knew about The Traitor, but it was also clear to Oneakka that they too had been caught unawares by her betrayal. Most of their information had been gathered in hindsight, with only a few incidents prior to her exposure that had caused some concern. The Elite had known about those incidents too, but had also missed their significance.

Oneakka then moved on to the second subject – Ulfur. He wanted to know the details Robiah had on Seeal's no good brother that he had withheld, the stories, accounts, and crimes that Division knew about and for which Ulfur had never paid. What Oneakka read made him want to storm back to the Glisi world and pull the waste of skin out of that cold world and slam him in a detention somewhere.

He'd wanted to do that anyway considering the giant's behaviour and treatment towards his sister, but, in many ways, staying on the Glisi world as the brother of the supposed 'cursed' child might be the best punishment.

One of the reasons Oneakka was keeping an eye on information about Ulfur was to make sure that he hadn't left the Glisi world and that Division hadn't been in touch with him. The answer was pleasing enough – there had been no information about Ulfur since, other than an official status of 'wanted' put out on his name. Robiah had ensured that if Ulfur did stray back off his snow-coated world then he would be apprehended.

Which left the last subject information to read. Oneakka glanced at the timepiece stood on Robiah's desk; the Division staff would be arriving soon enough, but he had enough time.

He triggered up the last selection of copied Division information that he had wanted, and perhaps had been most interested in reading. He had told himself that he was being thorough, ensuring that Robiah had been sharing properly, and that her clean record had been accurately recorded with Division.

The truth was that he hadn't wanted to read this information just as much as he did want to read it. He wanted to know everything Robiah and Division had found about Seeal, especially the bits that Robiah might have not included in his official report on her. But he was anxious to as well in case he might see something that might change his opinion of her; might reveal that she had lied to him, or done things that were inexcusable.

Even now, thumb poised over the button to open the records on her, he faltered. He wouldn't be able to unread what he saw, and it felt like if he saw something he didn't want to that it might break something somehow.

He had no idea what that 'something' was; maybe his opinion of her. Maybe it was because it could ruin what he knew about the first female that had ever truly interested him. For never had a female occupied his mind like Raven did.

So maybe it was best to read it all. After all, nothing was going to change between him and Seeal. He could look at this information; she probably expected him to know everything Robiah knew anyway.

He triggered the button to open up the folder on her and immediately he could see that he had been right; there were far too many entries compared to what Robiah had included in his official report on Seeal. And Oneakka knew it back to front.

A touch opened up the first files and he began reading, pretending he didn't feel raw trepidation in his middle.

Division had looked long and hard into her past, clearly having researched through many non-Alliance world records. They'd pulled up all kinds of random reports and rumours, as well as recording half told stories told by criminals in their interrogations, which were only rumours told about Seeal from her days in charge of security on Dreamstation. Oneakka had no doubt that half of those stories were exaggerated and probably uncorrected by her in order to bolster respect for her security role on Dreamstation. But, Division had dug back far further.

The earliest record of her, or at least of a young girl matching her description, would have been when she had been perhaps ten cycles old and living on the streets of the planet in question. Oneakka had heard of the non-Alliance planet and knew of its reputation for gang warfare and, according to the Division records, it was one of the main planets that held pit fights.

There were bits and pieces of reports from what passed as enforcement on that planet, reports of criminal children. One spoke of a girl who had killed a trader after she had been caught stealing fruit. Except, the researcher had questioned the validity of the report, as there had been signs of torture on the body that were commonly used by one particular gang leader.

Oneakka scanned through the next childhood criminal reports, picking out only three that he believed had actually been Seeal. One of them had a partial transcript, and he recognised her style of speaking, recognisable in her directness even in her early teens. He smiled at a collected phase of swear words she had apparently used at the enforcement officer interviewing her. They'd let her go, with no evidence, but Oneakka suspected there had been a few reminders by way of fists involved. He frowned at that angering thought as he shifted forward to later reports.

Ulfur appeared in these, and now the crimes referenced had been found on another world, one Oneakka did not recognise, but he suspected it was the one she had told him about before. The incident she had recounted to him of her last day with Ulfur when younger, when her waste of air brother had attempted to sell her to a gang leader to pay off his own debts. Seeal had told him directly that she had had to fight for her life and had killed those in her way. The report detailed how each of the gang had died in that incident. He ran through the list. Each kill had been quick and decisive, slices to throats, and one had died from a puncture to his liver. It was not good reading, but given the story Seeal had told him, he did not judge what he read. The report then listed the known crimes of each of the dead and Oneakka judged her even less.

Some might judge her poorly regardless of the cause, that taking human lives was wrong. He agreed to a point, but reading the list of those she had been forced to kill to save herself, in his opinion, their removal from life had been a service.

He imagined what he would do to men like that if they had captured her, thought they would turn her into a slave to do all manner of horrific things to and with.

He shifted onto the next report. It was a set of pit fight results over the course of five years. Division believed Seeal was one among the group – though the fighters were referenced by a number rather than a name. If she really was the fighter highlighted in the list, her fight victory statistics had been quite spectacular.

He shifted forward in time and the reports moved to her days on Dreamstation. He read through these with less interest, as most of them had been included in the official report. There were a few extra ones though, rumours from one smuggler who Division had caught only a few years ago. He had told stories about Seeal, that she ruled Dreamstation with an iron fist and forced men to run smuggling runs for her. Oneakka didn't believe a word of it, and neither had the interrogator.

After that the entries were Robiah's reports on his interactions with her as an informant following his discovery that Ulfur was her brother. Robiah had used that against her, getting information he wanted out of her in return for promising that Ulfur would be saved and sent home.

Oneakka read through the reports, amused at Robiah's descriptions of his meetings with her: _"Informant attempted to argue against the timeframe"_ and " _Informant expressed her displeasure at her role"._ Yes, Oneakka could imagine how Seeal had expressed her 'displeasure'.

And as simply as that, the reports were complete. He'd read everything.

He closed down the electronic pad and set it on his lap, his feet still up on the edge of Robiah's desk.

It was better than he had feared. There was little in there that had surprised him and nothing that worried him. In fact, it reassured him. Even the incidents of the girl that was probably her in the past criminals acts had only been incidents about stealing food. She had been homeless living on the street – one couldn't blame a child for stealing. He hated to think of the things she had had to deal with living so vulnerable and unaided. Ulfur certainly hadn't helped – she had looked after him despite him being bigger and older than her.

He recalled her unique fighting style, including climbing, flipping, and throwing her body around in ways he hadn't seen before. She had a strong but nimble body, far from thinly weak. He imagined her first learning that way of moving by climbing street walls and running over roofs and jumping gaps to escape from those looking to punish or harm her.

Then her pit fighting years. He recalled she had mentioned a trainer in passing, a man who had given her direction and focus. Clearly the man had taught her excellently.

He heard movement out in the open plan office outside Robiah's door. The department staff were arriving for their work day. He listened to two voices greeting each other, relaxed and a little tired sounding.

Clearly no alerts had been triggered by Oneakka's hacks into the archive and Robiah's terminal. How poetic it had been to use Seeal's hack to gain access to everything Robiah knew about her.

Oneakka let out a low heavy relieved breath. Now he had read everything that Robiah, with his power, reach outside of the Alliance, his sources, and manipulation had found on Seeal, he felt a deep sense of relief.

And with that relief was a sense of frustrated restriction; He was fed up of these offices, spending time with Robiah and all this digging through data and rumours.

Outside more were arriving for their working day and Oneakka picked out the striding rhythm of Robiah's footsteps approaching the open doorway to Oneakka's right. He heard the agent call out something to someone across the office, his tone relaxed and unaware.

Oneakka turned his head towards Robiah's office doorway, waiting for Robiah to enter.

Robiah strode in with a smooth confident walk, a large cup in one hand and his coat hung over his other arm.

Whatever drink was in the cup didn't remain there though, because a split second after Robiah entered, he registered Oneakka's presence and jumped almost half a metre in the air.

Oneakka was rather impressed at the height the man achieved.

The word that Robiah shouted as he jumped, and then again as the hot liquid of his drink hit his arm, was only fractionally less amusing.

"..Honoured...Honoured Elite," Robiah stuttered as he shook his arm, attempting to shake off the hot liquid. "Good morning."

Oneakka grunted his response, holding his reclined position, his boots still up on Robiah's desk.

"I did not realise you were here so early," Robiah continued as he moved swiftly around the far side of his overly large desk, unconsciously seeking its protection. "I would have tried to be here sooner."

Clearly the hack into the archive and his computer had been undetected. The Sythus technicians has assured him that Seeal's program would leave no trace, that was its point, and that they had only found it because she had written it on the Sythus computer in the first place. Still, it would be interesting to see if Division found it later.

"I had some reading to do," Oneakka replied simply, knowing the comment would catch Robiah's attention, and sure enough Robiah's eyes briefly slid to his computer terminal as he put his coat and cup down on his littered desk.

"Did you find anything new in the databases?" Robiah asked, his voice still a little shaky from his adrenaline hit, but he was clearly trying to appear in control.

"A few _interesting_ things," Oneakka replied simply.

Oneakka wasn't sure when playing with Robiah like this had become his entertainment, but it was clear that he'd spent far too much time in this office over the last weeks. In truth the research was running slow again, the main targets linked to The Traitor had been identified and caught, so what was left would take more time and research. The Department outside Robiah's office could do that, comparing figures, going through thousands of documents, and pouring over transcripts.

In an instant Oneakka knew he'd had enough of spending his days here.

He pulled his boots from the desk and set them heavily to the floor, Robiah flinching slightly as he did.

"I expect daily reports," Oneakka told the agent and quickly headed out of the small office.

He strode down the corridor created by filing cabinets and desks of the department's open plan office, all eyes watching him with that same nervous excitement they always had at having an Elite in their office. He wasn't interested in any of their attention – they could focus on their pads and sit here in their insecure office, wide open defenceless windows around them, and get on with their work.

He didn't belong here.

He had all he needed right now, had read all he had really wanted to read, and would work with Robiah now via link.

In a few short minutes he strode out of the lobby of the Investigation Building, using the main entrance this time, civilians scattering to get out of his way. He paid them no mind, other than the part of his senses and attention that was always assessing everything and everyone around him. There were no threats currently, there rarely was on Aria, but dropping one's guard was when things were missed.

He followed the main throughway towards the Portal, the streets excessively busy with everyone arriving to their duties for the day ahead. The main High Council building complex rose up to the left, but Oneakka ignored it and stormed onwards.

A sharp breeze had picked up since he'd been inside, the warmth of the new rising sun blocked behind thick clouds hanging across the sky. The coolness of the breeze was welcome against his bare arms though, helping draw his attention down from his wandering angry thoughts of Raven abandoned on the streets and having to learn to fight to save her skin and protect her body. How many other children were out there on non-Alliance worlds living as she had done? How many would become criminals without intending to end up that way? Here on Aria life was easy compared to what was out beyond the border. Aria was the central planet of the Alliance, the seat of the first small Alliance gatherings and where centralised agreement and control had issued from since. Those travelling to their daily work around him did not fear the Wraith, not anymore. The Wraith were far out in the stars now, which was a good thing, but it was very clear to Oneakka that there was still a great deal of work to be done.

And here he was stuck doing nothing.

He pulled up and stopped at an intersection of paths and streets, people flowing around him at a good distance.

He let out a breath of frustration. He felt on edge, like his skin was trying to crawl off his body. When he usually had time away from missions and the Sythus, he stayed at the Training Facility. There he had access to the gyms, with every type of training, weaponry and Recruits to teach to fill his time. He could spar with fellow Elite, with the security staff, and, of course, vaguely spar with the Recruits. They weren't much of a challenge.

Except, he didn't want to go to the Facility for this spell away from the Sythus, and had managed to keep away so far. But, it meant he didn't have much physical activity, any way of dispelling this irritating distracting frustration he was feeling.

It annoyed him that it was his own weakness keeping him from going to the Facility. He'd want to see her, would end up with Massa seeing him there, and he would have to deal with things he didn't want to right now. He just wanted a mission, something physical to do.

There were all manner of intellectual things he could do, which usually nicely balanced sparring and training in the Facility. He was due a trip back to Ugun, which he did every few months if he could. He'd installed a few satellites over his homeworld in recent years, to monitor the planet's recovery from the Wraith onslaught, and also to ensure no one was moving in. Technically, the entire planet belonged to him, and he was even, technically speaking, entitled to become a High Councillor to represent his planet. The High Council were edgy about that tiny loophole in law, but since he hadn't wanted to take up the role of Councillor, he'd officially agreed not to attend the High Council.

When it came to the Military Council though...he would save taking up that mantle until a time that would serve him.

Either way, his planet was still part of the Alliance, but unliveable. In the last year there had been a return of very small plant life in one part of Ugun, which was a positive. The satellites were set to watch the whole planet as they orbited round, and that one patch of repairing moss and one struggling fern species could one day help Oneakka reseed the entire planet. If he lived that long.

However, he had no interest in going and looking at more lines of technical satellite readings today. He considered going to Sateda where there was never a shortage of sparring partners; except visiting Sateda meant late nights drinking and no sleep. He wasn't in the mood for that kind of thing.

He needed somewhere to go where he could get some exercise, relax and... The answer hit him instantly and he was annoyed with himself for not having thought of it sooner. He moved forward again with purpose finally in his steps.

He made it to the Portal in quick time. Most people were using the Portal to arrive onto the planet at this time of day, which meant that Oneakka was the only one looking to leave right now. The guards dialled up his requested Portal address, and Oneakka waited impatiently as the rush of air broke forward and back and presented the way forward.

Oneakka strode into the Portal and stepped out into the echoing busy hallways of Mil Hub space station.

"Mil Hub" was technically a military station, but now was too old and set too deep into Alliance space for it to remain overly useful for the Military, so it had become a trading and habitation station where families of military personnel applied for quarters in place of their planets of origin, some of which had rather oppressive societies. Regardless of planet of origin or societal background, all military personnel and their families were welcome here. Those that lived here had basic but good homes, constant access to a Portal, marketing halls open all hours, leisure facilities and employment of their own. Over two thousand people lived on the station, only a quarter working on it, but the daily visitor numbers were far higher. Good trade could be made from trading with military families and educating their children, and all military families needed leisure time.

Technically the station was known as "Station 6", though it had been called "Military Hub" since its early days, but was usually referred to as "Mil Hub".

As with all stations built by the Alliance, there was a main central lobby off the Portal section from which the main marketing halls could be accessed. Oneakka crossed the lobby and felt his shoulders relaxing. He felt more comfortable among the military personnel here, who gave him space but there wasn't the same nervous stares and scurrying out of his way. Here people nodded and smiled politely and a few faces were even familiar. Elite were common enough here, and he was simply one of the masses, noticed, but not inconvenienced or feared. It was a soothing balm on his nerves after Aria and Division.

Here he could find plenty to spar with, he could use the pools, gyms, and had access to the Alliance links to continue his research with Division. He even had some friends here. Well, one particular friend.

Knowing Mil Hub well he marched through the main marketing hall without pausing, and entered through a door marked "Station Personnel Only". A tall stairwell led him up two flights of stairs and out up into a new marketing hall, but this one was exclusively for station residents and staff.

He planned to make himself known to the Station Leads, the two men in charge of the station being ex-ship commanders from the Fleet with whom Oneakka had fought alongside in the past. He could even speak to them quietly about the Military hardware that was being smuggled; they might have heard some rumours. Then maybe there would be time to...

He spotted her in the marketing hall crowd as she stepped away from her favourite food stall, a rope woven bag full of fruit and vegetables hanging from her hand.

He hadn't seen her for many long months, but she looked as she always did: a refreshing sea of exotic beauty among the rest. Her shoulder length hair glimmered deep gold in the artificial light of the hall as she looked round and noticed him immediately. She smiled instantly, her full deep red lips familiar and always sultry. And, today, her smile was one of a long held friend and a port of ease in the anxious frustrated world he had been living in.

He held still at the far end of the hall as Pampata made her way through the crowd towards him. She always had a way of walking that made it look like she was sliding easily through life, not quite of this world. Even in her work crew station uniform, her hips moved wide and rolled with a relaxed sultry step.

As she approached him, her smile widened further, showing her bright teeth behind her red lips. He smiled back down at her, the balm of her presence only adding to that of Mil Hub around him.

He'd been so tense for so many days.

"Honoured Elite," Pampata grinned up at him, her singsong voice light and cheerful, as she touched her hands to his bare arms, her touch firm and honest. "I did not know you were arriving here."

"It was a sudden decision," he admitted. "Sythus is in repair dock and I'm looking into some research," he told her, realising he was making excuses.

Pampata nodded, but her wide dark eyes were studying him closely, looking for the usual clues and signals no doubt; signs that he was really here to visit her...and suddenly he wasn't sure if he had come to see her.

"Can I help with your research?" She asked, her hands squeezing his elbows and then dropping away.

"Maybe," he considered. Pampata had been working here for many years, and there wasn't much she didn't know about station tech. She'd been living as well as working in Mil Hub ever since she had been a slave. His slave.

He had 'purchased' her a long time ago, selecting her and a few others, as he always used to do, for their usefulness in skills. Pampata had shown clear skills in engineering and, in return for service on the Sythus for the days equivalent to work off what he had paid for her, she had learnt all she could to set herself up as a engineer once her service to him had passed. That was always how he had worked with slaves he'd freed – using the time to help them prepare for life outside of being a slave and also being useful to the Elite. And it had worked, almost every time, and he'd never not freed a slave after the agreed working time.

But, Pampata had been different. She'd shown considerable natural skills in engineering and tech, which had been a common ground on which they had shared knowledge and tinkering skills and had become friends.

But it was not all they had shared.

Pampata had an innate beauty and sensuality that was as natural a part of her as was breathing, and she had loved all beings, male or female, but with a faint preference for females. For her, sex was a practical part of living and sharing her body with those she selected was a contract of intimacy but not emotion. On that level they had combined well, sharing physical contact to release tension, but without it leading to anything other than friendship.

After she had completed her work on the Sythus, he had officially freed her from slavery, and, with her newly earned qualifications, she had gained instant employment on Mil Hub. Since then, Oneakka had visited her occasionally to continue their friendship and for times when he hoped to relieve physical tension and share intimacy but without any emotional complications.

He realised it had been a long time since he'd last visited her. In fact, he had only visited her once since The Traitor had been revealed. He'd been so focused on his work, on helping Massa, and on tracking down The Traitor and then her trail.

"Are you well?" He asked her, assessing her complexion and the brightness of her eyes. They had known each other for so many years now, almost ten years perhaps. He considered her one of his closest friends, but he had not made contact with her in some time.

"I am very well, thank you for asking," she replied, her warm eyes assessing him still. "Are _you_ well?"

He knew that Pampata had years' wealth of knowledge of working with him and seeing him in many emotional states, so lying to her was useless.

"I have been better," he replied honestly.

She nodded, as if it only confirmed her assessment, which it probably did. "Do you have time to share a drink after your research here?"

For the first time that he ever remembered, he felt uncomfortable about the possible offer behind that simple invitation.

Had he come here to sleep with her? He hadn't consciously planned to, but he had come here almost on a whim. What he did know was that he needed the simplicity and honesty of her friendship right now.

"The research shouldn't take too long," he decided, "I can do it later."

"Shall we have a drink now then?" She asked.

Did she mean sharing a cup of tea or sex? Sometimes it meant both, most often it meant both.

Except he didn't feel the usual physical excitement such an offer usually gave him. He just felt tired now in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. But, he knew he wanted to be in her comforting presence. With Pampata, everything was clear and simple, no complications and no judgements.

He nodded his agreement, at least to the drink, and they turned back towards the stairwell. They talked about the latest victory of the Nest System as they made their way to her quarters, the victory all anyone talked about on the station apparently. She was pleased he was unhurt and she asked after those she knew still serving on the Sythus.

As they entered her quarters, the usual scents and bright colours surrounded him. She headed straight in towards her kitchen area, leaving him to settle. With practiced habit, he slid his knife from his back and set it on the side table and unholstered his stunner and laid it beside the blade. He removed his boots and set them alongside her collection of bright and varied shoes, and moved into her home. Everything was as it usually was, with only a few small items having been moved around. He headed towards the waiting wall of sofas and settled down in his usual favourite spot by the dark table. He sat down and back against the thick soft padding with relief and let out a heavy sigh of gratitude.

"I hear much weariness in that sigh," Pampata chuckled from the kitchen area off through to the right.

Resting back his head, Oneakka closed his eyes and just nodded silently to her words. He knew he was welcome here, that Pampata wouldn't care if he just wanted to sleep on her sofa or not talk at all. She knew him well and did not expect conversation for no reason, and so he simply listened to her, his friend and occasional lover of so many years now, as she made him his favourite tea.

He listened to cupboards opening, her soft gentle humming to herself, which she always did when alone, and the sound of ceramic cups on a work surface. The mundane sounds of life made him smile. He had missed Pampata.

"How is Piye?" He called to her as he heard the sounds of her pouring the freshly boiled water. Piye was Pampata's female partner, a woman who loved Pampata dearly and tolerated Pampata's occasional desire for a man's body.

"She is well," Pampata answered as he heard her stirring a spoon in a cup. "She asked after you only a few days ago, hoping you were uninjured after the great victory."

Oneakka was no threat to Piye, as he and Pampata had no romantic love for one another, but he knew he was still something that Piye would prefer out of her life.

So he scoffed lightly as he listened to Pampata pick up their cups. "I am sure she will be pleased to know I am well."

Fabric moved as Pampata entered the lounge area of her quarters and he heard her set the cups down on the low dark wooden table.

He finally opened his eyes and sat up in his seat to reach for his cup. It was the red cup that she nearly always selected for his tea.

"Piye does care for your wellbeing," Pampata argued as she frowned down at some of her own tea she had spilt on the tabletop. "I need a cloth," she uttered to herself. "She would not wish you ill will," she added as she moved back towards the kitchen.

"I am sure she would not," Oneakka agreed. He suspected that, for Piye, he at least was an acceptable male to occasionally be in Pampata's life, for he clearly had no desire for attachment or emotion. Piye could see the value in that at least. If there were other males Pampata entertained, he never asked. It did not matter to him.

"What is it that makes you sigh so heavily, Oneakka?" Pampata asked as she returned with a cloth and wiped up her spilt drink. She was a rare civilian who used his personal name, and he liked the informality he shared with her.

"Just some complications," he uttered dismissively as he lifted the cup to his lips and sipped at the hot liquid. It was indeed his usual fragrant and slightly bitter tea, which felt just perfect for his mood.

"Mmmm," Pampata answered to that though as she returned her cloth to the kitchen. "An intriguing answer from you," she observed as she returned, her eyes assessing again. "What has happened?" The only problem with having a close friend was their insightfulness; Massa and his recently teasing came instantly to mind.

"Nothing," he found himself lying to Pampata as he sat back heavily in his seat. "Nothing worth worrying over." He sipped his tea again.

Pampata moved around the table and settled down on the sofa beside him, turned towards him as she always did, one elbow set on the seatback behind them. "Yet, it sounds as if you are worrying," she observed.

"Nothing to be done about it," he shrugged as he contemplated his tea.

"That's a _very_ interesting answer," she commented.

He frowned round at her. "How was that answer 'interesting'?" He asked.

She smiled her familiar wide lipped sensuous smile.

"If you were anyone else," she grinned and continued with a teasing tone, "I would say there was a lover involved."

He felt his shoulders tense at her words, implying that he was abnormal.

" _Not_ a lover," he made it clear.

"Oh," she responded though with another smile. "An almost lover?"

He wanted to lie, to say that his sour and frustrated feelings these past two weeks were not due to Seeal, but when it came to telling Pampata he found he couldn't pretend anymore.

She seemed to understand his silence and laughed with that deep female temptress depth that he usually enjoyed. "Tell me who this woman is," she ordered, seeming especially interested now.

"Why do you assume this is about a woman?" He asked to distract her.

"Not a woman? Have your tastes changed that dramatically that it is a male?"

"No," he answered, smiling faintly at the teasing now despite himself.

"Halling perhaps?"

"Eww!" He objected loudly. She always had a way of making him smile, of bringing life down to basics and the simple transitory pleasures of life. "I have no interest in men, Halling or otherwise."

"So, the problem is a female?" She asked more seriously.

He sighed. "Maybe," he conceded.

"Wow," Pampata uttered as she drew her legs up onto the seat, tucking them under her as if settling in to hear a good story. "Tell me."

He winced as he set his tea back down on the table and looked over at her beside him.

"Do not feel uncomfortable about the subject matter with me, Mighty Elite," she smiled. "With me you know I will speak plainly on such things."

He frowned at her, seeing anew how much he really was drawn to strong, confident and direct speaking women. Who else best to discuss this with, and who would understand his own particular issues with close relationships as well as Pampata?

He settled back on the sofa, his head back against the padding once more and sighed.

"It is complicated," he said up to the white washed ceiling of her quarters.

"Of course it is, it is you," Pampata joked, though her point was seriously meant.

He nodded at that truth. "She was a criminal, acquitted now for her good work with the Elite, and now works at the Facility."

"That is a very interesting and certainly abbreviated story indeed." But, Pampata understood that military details had to be left out. "Why is it complicated?"

He turned his head and looked at her pointedly.

"You like her, does she like you?"

"I am not a youthful boy," he reminded her.

"You seem to be behaving like one," she responded with a smile.

"How exactly?" He frowned.

"Moping around, dreaming of the girl you like in education classes," she used a girlish voice, "thinking about her all the time, wondering what she's doing, picturing her in the shower," she winked suggestively.

He pulled a face at her. She was enjoying this. "Do you have a point or do you just like teasing me?"

"That's not what you normally like," she responded suggestively again. "You prefer straight to the point." He wondered if that was a commentary on his sexual style. "My point is that you are not used to this."

"You of all people should know that's not true," he responded with his own suggestive tone now.

"Oh, I do," she smiled back. "I mean the deeper feelings for someone."

"I don't have deeper feelings," he replied quickly.

She angled her head with her eyebrows up, calling him out on his dismissive comment.

"I barely know the woman," he argued next.

"Have you fought in battle alongside her?"

He frowned. "Yes, several times," he admitted.

"You have always said that you only know the truth of a person when in battle," Pampata annoyingly quoted him. "Do you like her in battle?"

He had to look away at that question. Looking back up at the white ceiling, the truth of that answer washed over him. The instant memories of Seeal from when she sparred or had fought were so vivid that thinking over them created very real physical sensations.

"It is not that simple," he uttered quietly.

"Because you do not want such a thing in your life," Pampata replied just as quietly. He had been right; she understood him.

"It has no place in my life. I do not want it, and neither does she."

"If that were true, it would not be affecting you so much," she theorised.

It was annoying, but perhaps true enough. "That doesn't change anything," he muttered.

"Then why are you here?" She asked.

He blinked and looked back at Pampata, trying to form an answer to that question.

"It is not for the usual reason," she replied first though, "and I have to wonder if it is perhaps to say goodbye."

He frowned, shocked at that. "Why goodbye?"

"Because you have found something else," she replied. "Someone who _truly_ interests you. Not like Honoured Elite Methren you and Halling were drawn to, she was a passing interest, but a female who has you this distracted? I've never seen you like this."

He considered her. "Like what?" She'd seen him in all moods surely.

She considered him quietly. "Afraid."

The word was like a slap. "I'm not afraid of her," he stated.

"Maybe afraid of feeling out of control and vulnerable to another."

"I don't like it and I don't want it," he frowned.

She smiled, sadly. "Drawing us in but terrifying us; Love is like that."

"I am not in love with her," he stated quickly.

"But you could be," Pampata answered. "The promise of such a thing is now real to you. Now you understand Piye's jealousy and Halling's anger at your interest in Methren."

"I always understood," he argued honestly, but there was some truth in what she was saying. Seeal had dramatically altered how he viewed his past feelings for Methren – it was very clear to him now that his feelings back then had not been as strong as he had thought.

"I have no interest in being in love," he said, "I do not want to fall in love. It has no appeal and is a distraction for a warrior."

"You are absolutely correct."

He looked at her with growing bemusement. "What is your point then?"

She shrugged her wide shoulders. "Why should there be one? Something is awoken, enjoy it, explore it, or ignore it." She smiled at her paradoxical answer.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "I can see that coming here was useful," he said sarcastically.

She leant in, her feminine artificial and natural scents surrounding him. He didn't pull back as she pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and then briefly against his lips and pulled back. Her warm hand slid over his hair, kind and caring, as she smiled at him.

"Piye will be pleased," she smiled. "She pretends she is not, but she has been very jealous of you."

"Why me?" He asked. "You have other lovers?"

"They have dwindled away," she admitted. "I prefer her company, but you have held a special place of nostalgia and I have always very much enjoyed your company."

There seemed to be a finality in that.

"Are we not to be friends anymore?" He asked, Pampata's hand stroking his hair once more before she pulled her hand away.

"I hope we will always be friends," she smiled. "But I suspect your new female will not tolerate my presence, even occasionally, in your bed. And I don't think you want me there anymore, for you will prefer to see her when you look upon me."

He realised it was true enough. Looking at her now he had been comparing her skin tone to Seeal's, her hair to Seeal's, her outspokenness to Raven's blatant frankness. He wished it wasn't like this, but Pampata was right enough.

"She is not my female," he pointed out. "Neither of us wants it that way."

Pampata reached out and stroked his cheek, his scarred and tattooed cheek. "Who would not wish to be with you, most Honoured Elite? If I loved you that way I would wish to be with you."

It was a kind thing to say, but it cut surprisingly deep. "I am a scarred and angry man," he voiced the truth.

"I suspect she too is scarred and angry in her own way."

He frowned at her. "How is that in anyway a good thing for both of us?"

"We are _all_ scarred and angry at something," she replied. "It is just that some of us hide it and do not use it as honestly as you."

He sighed with no small amount of frustration now, her hand still against his cheek. "You are behaving as if I am going to enter into a relationship with this woman. I am not."

"So you say," she responded as she lowered her hand from his cheek.

"I do," he responded.

"You want her, she wants you – these situations usually turn out one way."

"I didn't say she wanted me," he clarified, but his mind recalled the worried yet interested attention in Raven's eyes when she had left the Sythus, her question about his chest tattoo, and the electric pull he had felt between them during those last encounters.

"We shall see."

"I don't want her to want me," he decided.

"Keep talking, the hips will do the walking," Pampata laughed. "Besides, you've never run away from anything in your life, and I doubt you are about to start now."

He glared at her but she only smiled again, the bright grin so familiar, and yet he was grateful for this conversation. He could always trust Pampata to be honest yet discrete. She was usually also pretty accurate about things.

He wasn't running away from Seeal. He had just been keeping a wise distance.

Hadn't he?

Even if he was, could walk away from something if he wanted.

The problem was, of course, that a significant part of him didn't want to run away from her.

He sighed and closed his eyes again.

Life had been simpler before he'd met his Raven.

000000  
TBC


	8. The Invitation to War

0000000

 **Chapter 8 – The Invitation to War**

 _Atlantis_

"...it's quite extraordinary," Rodney rambled as he forked up another large mouthful of food. "Dr Keller's research suggests the ointment is a mixture of at least six plants."

John watched another mouthful of dinner disappear into Rodney's constantly moving mouth. It was good that he was out of the Infirmary, managing to leave Carson's bedside for a few hours at a time now. Following the initial explosion, Rodney had refused to leave Carson for days, sitting obsessively by the Doc's bedside, only leaving during the Elite Healer's visits. Those breaks away from Carson's bedside were getting longer and more frequent now, but it still took someone else to draw Rodney away.

John was glad at least that Rodney was eating regular meals again, though the amount he ate was as massive as always. Regardless of the stress, Rodney's appetite never seemed to fade.

This evening the team had gathered to visit Carson and had then tempted Rodney away with the promise of the new curried tava bean stew being served in the Mess. After a few false starts with the Athosian beans, the cooks had finally gotten the hang of it and tonight's stew was pretty good. Clearly Rodney agreed.

"Has Keller identified the active ingredients?" Cadman asked from her seat to Rodney's left.

Rodney scrapped up the last thin remains of his stew. "There's too many, but apparently that's not important, it's the synergism of all the compounds in the plants, not just the identified active ingredients. Actually-," Rodney waved his spoon, a lecture definitely on the way.

"So, he's doing better today," John interrupted, returning the conversation to the original point.

"Dr Keller is really impressed with his skin's recovery," Rodney repeated his earlier point. "And the Ancient Scanner showed that his broken arm is knitting faster than expected. It might be that the healing properties of the Elite burn ointment work systemically in the body not just on the local area where it's applied. It will probably mean he'll be up on his feet far sooner, and he's starting to regain some sensitivity in the area of the burns, so that might mean nerve re-growth is occurring faster."

It had been this way each meal with Rodney. He would talk incessantly about Carson's recovery, holding desperately onto tiny details that showed Carson was getting better. John totally understood – he did the same – but, there was an almost fragile desperation to Rodney's continuous rambling.

"And he said he can feel a little bit more of the left side of his face," Rodney continued as he reached for his pudding.

"That's great," John replied, smiling as best he could.

It was great, but John found it a push to really feel happy, because while Carson's physical recovery might be leaps ahead, the rest of Carson didn't seem to be getting any better. That distant pained emptiness to the guy's eyes when he didn't know anyone was watching...

John knew what it was like when others died because of your actions.

He'd tried to talk to Carson about it again today, but Carson had just said he was fine. But, he clearly wasn't.

John felt pretty helpless. He didn't know what else to say or do for Carson, and seeing Rodney's almost desperate need to be upbeat about Carson's recovery only made him feel worse about it.

Maybe Rodney saw the same deep pain in Carson too; maybe that was why he was talking nonstop about how good things were going. Because they weren't.

"He's really doing much better," Rodney insisted, again.

"Yes, he is," John agreed, again, nodding as he set his coffee down and glanced at Cadman.

She returned his look with worried concern. She had visited Carson more than John would have expected, as he hadn't thought the two were friends, but she seemed quite affected by the Doc's injuries. Maybe being an explosives expert herself meant she had seen some things like this before, and probably didn't want to again.

"He'll be back to his old self in no time," Ford put in from John's right, trying to reassure Rodney.

"His rehab might take awhile," Rodney considered, his enthusiasm dying for a moment. "But, he's a doctor, so they don't need to do much."

John frowned at that logic.

"I mean, I do some of my best work sitting down, sometimes lying down," Rodney explained.

"Or in a bath, yes, you've mentioned this before," John replied.

"He could probably move around the Infirmary in a wheelchair if he needed to," Rodney planned.

"There isn't anything wrong with his legs, McKay," Cadman pointed out gently.

"I know, I mean because he gets tired," Rodney argued.

"He's been in bed for over two weeks," Ford added, "That'll tire anyone out."

"Depends on what you're doing in bed," Cadman quipped.

Ford chuckled.

"Yes, thank you," Rodney scoffed. "As usual, bringing the level of intellect down, Cadman."

"And you're bringing it up?" She retaliated.

John exchanged a look with Ford as Rodney, predictably, took great exception to that.

"I'm the most intelligent person in this City," Rodney protested.

"Including Colonel Carter?" John baited.

Rodney paused. "Sam is amazingly intelligent," he replied, "but I know this City better than her."

"And that makes you more intelligent than her?" Cadman pushed.

"I wasn't saying that," Rodney argued.

"But you are saying that," Cadman returned.

"He won't say it because he fancies Colonel Carter," Ford chuckled.

"Sam and I have a far more complicated and deeper history than you know about," Rodney began.

"Sure you do," Ford said doubtfully.

"But, I'm with Katie now," Rodney continued, ignoring Ford.

John had to wonder how that was working with Katie Brown, because between these meals with the team and his days spent at Carson's side, John hadn't seen the couple in the same room let alone spending time together. Unless maybe Rodney was staying in Katie's quarters? Or her in his.

Compared to John's love life, it was miles ahead. He wasn't even on the same planet as Teyla, let alone in the same bed.

He didn't even know if they were actually still going out. If what they had been doing before could be described as 'going out'.

"Sam understands that I've moved on and that we've grown apart," Rodney finished his self-deluded commentary on his and Carter's 'relationship'.

"You really do live in your own little world, don't you, McKay," Cadman concluded.

"If by 'my own world' you mean a world full of geniuses and strong women who are attracted to my intelligence, then yes," Rodney smiled at Cadman.

"That sounds like a truly frightening world, McKay," she returned.

Rodney shrugged off her comment with surprising ease. "It's what I have to deal with."

John looked round at Ford and rolled his eyes.

"We all have to deal with you," Cadman muttered.

John reached for his coffee again. He wasn't sure why he was drinking it really, since he wasn't on duty again until tomorrow morning, but he felt like he needed something to ward off his own current empty tiredness. It was probably because of the stress of the IOA coming tomorrow after weeks of nothing. All those days of questions and nothing back, and now the IOA were sending their people tomorrow. It had felt like the answer they had all been waiting for, but John was starting to get angsty about what tomorrow would bring.

That and he really needed to get a good night's sleep for once.

With all the worrying about the IOA's take on the contract and how things stood with Teyla, when he did get to sleep, his dreams were far from relaxing.

He'd had a particularly memorable nightmare last night; He'd been back on Giant, lying on his back in the mud of the empty riverbed, the Wraith over him, its hand moving ever closer to his chest. Only, this time Teyla hadn't gotten to him in time and the Wraith had slammed its feeding hand down onto his chest. As the Wraith had started draining his life, it had morphed into Teyla and she had started digging his heart out of his chest with her bare hands. In a scene right out of an Indiana Jones movie, she had pulled out his bloodied heart and shown it to him.

He didn't need to be a Quack to work out that one. His subconscious was pretty obvious.

He probably needed therapy or something.

" _Major Sheppard to the Control Room, please_ ," was abruptly announced in his earpiece. " _Major Sheppard to the Control Room_."

John reached up and tapped awake his radio link. "Sheppard here; I'm on my way," he told Chuck as he stood up from his seat.

"What's happening?" Rodney asked, his eyes wide and worried.

"Probably just more questions from the IOA before tomorrow," John answered, hoping that was all it was.

"You don't think the IOA have called off the deal?" Ford asked.

"Let's hope not," John winced. "See you all later."

He headed out of the Mess Hall quickly, each step worrying at him. What if Midway had called in and the IOA had called everything off?

Or had the Alliance called in and cancelled the deal?

Maybe Teyla had called and wanted his heart on ice to go.

Shaking his head at himself, he jogged up the stairs, working his way up the tower. As worrying as it was to think of who the IOA might send tomorrow and how their arrival would affect things here in Atlantis, it would at least mean things would be moving forward. The chances of getting into a fight with the Alliance were growing less each day, and maybe, just maybe, they could all actually start working together to fight the Wraith.

It was clearly shift change up in the Control Room, as twice the number of staff stood at the consoles, working handover for the night and sharing gossip from the last shift. In the middle of it though, John saw the reason for being called up here.

Colonel Carter stood in front of the large tv screen, and the glow of an active gate was dancing up from the Gate Room below. Someone had dialled in, and, as John wound his way around consoles and crew, he angled his head to see who was on the screen.

With some relief, he saw that it was Torren and that he was smiling.

So no crisis – for once.

Teyla was okay.

Carter glanced round as John approached and she immediately shifted over to silently provide space for him to join her in front of the screen. Accepting the invitation, John slid into Torren's view and his new Father-In-Law grinned.

"It is good to see you this day, Honoured Son," Torren intoned, as he always did now.

"Good to see you, Torren," John replied, not sure if he should be replying with 'Honoured Father'. He should really ask Teyla about that sort of thing.

"Are you well, John?" Torren asked, clearly relaxed. He hadn't appeared that way for the last couple of weeks, but then they'd been dodging his invites to Athos as they waited for the IOA to actually make a decision and allow them to start visiting Tjaru again.

"I'm great thanks," John answered him. "How are things on Athos?"

"It is raining here again," Torren replied.

"Season for it," John recalled it was still the Rainy Season on Athos.

Torren grinned again, clearly pleased John knew that small titbit about Athos. "Indeed."

"What's up?" John asked.

Carter turned slightly towards him. "I was just telling Leader Torren about our official representatives arriving here tomorrow and how we should shortly be arranging a visit to Athos."

"Yeah, it's great," John supplied rather weakly, smiling at Torren.

"And Leader Torren has an invitation for you," Carter continued.

"Oh?" John asked, trying to read the rather impenetrable look on Carter's face.

"Yes, John," Torren said more seriously – which couldn't be good. "It is traditional following a Political Marriage, especially here on Athos, for the family to gather together for a meal to welcome the new member of the family."

The new family member would be him.

"So, I would like to officially invite you to a Family First Meal the day after tomorrow here in Tjaru," Torren smiled.

John tried not to wince – it was nice, wasn't it? "Sounds great."

"Torren has explained," Carter added, "that it is usually just the groom, or bride in some instances, who attends from their people. However, I have explained that we would not want to send you to Athos completely by yourself."

"Before you arrived, John, I was also mentioning that both yourself and Lieutenant Ford are invited to attend a military meeting the same day, in the evening, as you were both present for the recent glorious victory against the Wraith," Torren smiled again.

"Oh," John considered, the military visit sounding more interesting and less embarrassing than having to sit around a table with all of Teyla's relatives looking at him. He realised that Torren had said all of the family; did that mean Teyla would be there?

"My Honoured Daughter as asked me to convey her assurances that both you and Lieutenant Ford will be perfectly safe and under her direct protection."

Did that mean she would be there too?

Carter shifted next to John's elbow drawing his attention. "If you're not happy about it, maybe we can send the rest of your team to wait outside."

John registered that she was worried about his and Ford's safety, not just protocol. Yeah, safety, that was the important point, not Teyla's family all asking him questions, wanting to get to know him better.

But, it would be a chance to maybe see Teyla again, and her family were okay. Athos was safe...apart from the whole near assassination of Teyla's family by Iketani' hired goons. That was a one off, he was sure it would be fine.

"We'll be fine," John assured Carter. "Tjaru isn't far from the Gate, and there's plenty of security in the City and in the Governing Complex."

"I can assure you, you will both be very safe," Torren assured them again. "My Honoured Daughter will see to it, and I know that she would welcome both your and Lieutenant Ford's presence for the military meeting."

That sounded like she was definitely going to be there.

"Sounds fun," John smiled and looked at Carter again.

Her blue eyes studied him for a moment, no doubt questioning whether she should send her people off world alone.

"We'll be fine," John assured her, worrying now that she was going to say no.

She blinked, glanced to Torren.

"All those present for the meal are all known to you, Colonel Carter," Torren assured her. "Myself, my younger daughter, Zabetha, her husband, Rhakshar, Charin, Elkaska, and, of course, my Honoured Daughter Elite Emmagan."

Teyla was definitely going to be there.

John looked at Carter with even more hope.

She considered it for a second longer and then smiled. "If John is happy, then I will agree to it."

Torren grinned. "Wonderful. If you attend at the usual quarter of the day, the meal will be served once you reach the Governing Complex. Lieutenant Ford will not be invited to the actual family table, but we will ensure he receives an excellent meal outside the family area of the complex."

John wondered how Ford was going to take to sitting outside the door with his food. It was good teasing material if nothing else.

"I'm sure he'll love it," John commented simply.

"It is agreed," Torren concluded, clearly pleased. "The family all look forward to the chance to share a meal with you informally and," his eyes slid to Carter, "I also look forward to meeting your Representatives shortly."

"We'll be in touch as soon as we have a day in mind," Carter replied.

"I look forward to it," Torren responded as he inclined his head. "Good day to you both," he finished with his usual sign off.

"Good day," John parroted back before the screen shut down and the Gate a second later.

He was going to see Teyla the day after tomorrow. She was actually going to be there.

Though, he was going to have to sit and make 'informal' talk with all her family.

Carter turned towards him. "Lunch with the In-Laws," she smiled with no small amount of teasing hidden behind it.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he said with growing doubt.

Carter grinned as she moved away, one hand patting him on the shoulder as she left. "Good luck."

She sounded too amused about it.

It would be fine.

He'd met all of Teyla' family before, loads of times...except now he was the 'husband'. He'd be the centre of attention, everyone watching him and Teyla...

It hit him though – the last time John had been in Tjaru it had been his and Teyla's wedding day and they had had that big fight...that Torren had witnessed.

Would Torren have told the rest of the family?

Did they all know about his and Teyla's relationship?

A cold worried chill ran over John's skin.

"It'll be fine," John promised himself, hopefully, desperately.

000000

 _Elite Training Facility_

The shift happened gradually, one muscle fatiguing before the rest. She tried to compensate, tightening and straightening, straining and working to relax at the same time.

It wasn't working though, the imbalance was spreading, and her compensating was ruining her balance.

Seeal breathed out the strain as she watched the floor between her hands; her white, shaking hands that supported her entire body.

It had been a long time since she'd trained handstands. She moved through a handstand state a lot in flips and kicks, but holding a handstand was an old skill that she'd not retained all that well.

Her old pit fighting teacher had used to get her to hold handstands, using her own bodyweight to build strength, to learn balance, and to try to make her focus and remain calm amidst all the strain.

After the whole robot hanging off her leg episode, she'd decided to work on her body strength, particularly working to build some more upper body strength. With rediscovering handstands, climbing, floor exercises, and weight training, it was working. The new focus also helped her in her lone daily exercise slots late at night in the Facility gyms. She could train a lot harder – always had – but working on fighting skills, acrobatics, and more stamina focused work would not be wise when the Recruits were watching her so closely. Instead, she'd kept to one training time a day, late at night, and focused her workouts on body strength. It was a little frustrating not to be able to push herself to her more usual levels of exercise, but the limited focus was very useful in of itself.

The current handstand was slipping though. It was the longest she had held one this week, but she had lost her focus now.

She heard footsteps moving a few metres away, and glanced out at the gym, her view upside-down. She could see boots and the lower part of the man's legs – it was this evening's gym supervisor. There was always one in each gym, watching over everyone working out, giving advice, working on rehabilitation programmes with some Elite and Recruits, and to be ready if there were any accidents. Most of the supervisors had left her alone, uncaring of her other than probably making sure she didn't kill herself. They occasionally offered passing comments to her, instructive comments about her climbing form or how to correct her weight lifting. It was useful she supposed, but their nickname wasn't always as welcome.

She watched the boots passing her training station, her body shaking a little now.

"Shoulders over hands, Dreamstation," the supervisor supplied as he passed out of view.

She turned her attention to that instruction, aware that indeed her weight was shifting off centre. But, it was too late, and though she tried to shift her hands, gravity had other thoughts.

To end the handstand she only needed to pull her legs down, return up into an upright position, but tonight she decided to let the handstand collapse. She dropped onto her right side on the mats, the collapse controlled but hardly impressive to watch – but then this was all about how others were seeing her. It didn't hurt to appear exhausted and perhaps supporting a few sprained joints. She sat on her backside on the mat and shook out her arms, blood flushing her skin. She stretched out sore muscles, putting on a little show of it hurting far more than it did.

As she stretched her left triceps, she relaxed her gaze to take in the rest of the gym in her peripheral vision.

There had been a significant shift to the Recruits treatment of her in the last day. Some might see it as unimportant, positive even, but Seeal wasn't fooled.

Things were about to get very interesting.

The Recruit group that were the most hostile in their subtle exclusion and verbal abuse of her being here had stopped behaving so outwardly aggressive. There were still the stares and someone barged into her shoulder earlier this morning. She'd made sure to appear a little hurt by the 'accident'. But, nothing had been thrown at her in almost two days, and there had been far less verbal comments in the corridors.

Except, to Seeal's very experienced eye, it was obvious to her that they were about to escalate things. Though they were saying less, there was a clear almost excited intensity in its place. They were looking forward to what was going to happen, were planning whatever it was going to be, and they were feeling smug about themselves.

Therefore, she'd started formalising her routine in the Facility, using the same route to and from the habitation sector of the Facility, had made sure to appear more tried after her training sessions late at night, and to most definitely not appear in anyway prepared for them.

This evening, there was only one Recruit training in the same gym as her – which alone was highly suspicious. This particular male Recruit was never seen away from his social group and, therefore, he would be the lookout for what was to come.

She felt faintly relieved that it was finally coming to a head, because she was getting fed up with restricting herself, but it was important to make sure that she did not instigate anything. At least then if the Elite threw her out, she would at least be secure in the knowledge that none of it was her fault.

However, letting down Oneakka wouldn't be as easy to avoid. Well, if he wouldn't understand that she had a right to defend herself then that was his business.

Except, she really wished she could 'behave' herself as she had promised him.

It was going to be out of her hands though, and hopefully he, and the other Elite, would understand.

Pushing up off the mat, making it look like more of an effort than it was, she headed towards her waiting gym bag, which had remained always within eyeshot. She pulled out her water bottle and glugged down more than she needed. It wouldn't hurt to have some extra fluids. As she secured the bottle closed, she glanced out across the gym idly, only to find that the Recruit had slipped out without her noticing.

He'd be passing on the message that she was fatigued, and he wouldn't want to miss the action of course.

She sighed as she put her bottle in her bag and pulled out her small towel. She wiped down her face, neck and arms. She was sweatier than she would like before a fight, but then she'd fought in every state possible really, but it was best to be prepared. She wrapped her towel around her neck and picked up her bag. On the way out of the gym she stopped to dip her hands in the chalk container used for climbing. Patting her palms free of the chalk, which would absorb the sweat, she headed out of the gym.

It was pretty late here in the Facility, most of the Recruits sticking to a good bedtime here apparently. There would still be some around in the other gyms or in the canteens working on assignments probably – did Elite Recruits write essays? She wasn't sure.

Whatever their mental education, their physical training made up a significant part of their lives, which was why she was taking this potential fight with the Recruits very seriously. The particular problem group she had identified among their number appeared to be mid-level in their training, maybe a few nearing the end of it. They were in their late teens, pumped up, and probably already had over a decade of training. They might not know how to deal with enemies in the real world outside of this Facility, but that only made their intense fighting training all the more dangerous. They probably didn't know how to use their punches against those from outside their training circle, and they might rely on weapons far sooner in a fight; both of which were a real threat.

There were no Recruits to be seen in the corridors this evening, with only Facility personnel moving through the late night corridors. So, she stuck with the same corridor as she had the last two nights – the long ambling one that ran around the side of the Facility to the habitation sector. Along that route there were little lookout sections, with windows looking out at the beautiful barren view outside. The corridor widened at those lookout points, clearly not designed for tourism, but to work with the bottlenecks elsewhere in the corridor to manage any invading enemy. The Elite designed their Facility with ambush points in mind, and so the Recruits would do the same. Seeal had already picked out three best points along that corridor where she suspected they would choose to get the drop on her.

So she walked at a casual pace, appearing a little tired after her workout, along that long corridor that afforded a good occasional view outside, but few people used at this hour.

She passed the first potential ambush point, but clearly it was not going to be the place, so she ambled on.

Hopefully, Oneakka was going to forgive her for this.

She'd been enjoying working here, for the most part, though admittedly it was rather boring in the action department – Recruits about to jump her aside. She rather missed the raids on Iketani' associates and being able to see the stars outside the windows of the Sythus.

She reached the second possible point of ambush and decided this would be the best place. It was the widest lookout point, the windows looking out into a deep ravine. She moved towards the view, her back to the open space behind her, appearing lost in her thoughts and the landscape outside.

She put her bag down and held either end of the towel around her neck and contemplated the window, and its reflection.

There was limited camera feeds in this corridor, and if the Recruits had been smart, which presumably they were, they would have compromised the camera feed already. They should have someone watching the feed and guiding the rest in towards her, moving in from both directions of the corridor and containing her in against the windows.

She could have predicted it wrong, could have misread the Recruits, after all she hadn't spent any time around Elite Recruits before. But, she'd learnt recently that even Elite were just human, of course they were. They were trained to the point of near god-like abilities, but that was what happened when you trained someone in one thing since they were a child. Mastery didn't arrive out of nothing. The Recruits were far from that standard, but that was what they wanted.

Yet, they were still human, and humans, in her experience, often liked to get rid of things that bothered them. Her presence here bothered the Recruits, or at least a portion of their large number. But, that was more than enough – a riot could be started by one individual given the right circumstances.

Still, she rather hoped she was being paranoid, that she had gotten too used to watching the worst in people.

The Elite hadn't been what she had expected, so maybe their young Recruits would-

She heard the soft scuff of boots off down the corridor.

Her disappointment was far more surprising that the approaching subdued sounds.

They were doing quite well to make as little noise as possible. She'd had the floors of Dreamstation fitted with a plastic coating that had made it next to impossible for any shoe not to make a noise. The way around that, which only a few had worked out, was to go barefoot. Very few thought to go barefoot into a fight as it put you at a disadvantage. But, that was only if you left your boots behind. She had stalked a few individuals through the corridors of Dream late at night with her boots tied around her belt.

The scuffs became heavy footfalls, the pretence over, as the Recruits burst into the space behind her.

"Criminal!" One male voice challenged.

Seeal unfocused her gaze from the reflection and looked over her shoulder, her back to them and her hands still on the ends of the towel hung around her neck.

There were thirteen of them – more than she had expected – and there were more males than females, which was normal enough. The front three males stood forward from the rest, forming an arrow formation filling the space, all intensely focused at her.

She ran her eyes quickly over each of the large group in turn, making direct eye contact with each.

Three of them looked away, three who were stood right at the back. One glanced away down the corridor as if keeping watch, but Seeal recognised it as a displacement response. He didn't want to be here. When this kicked off, those three would likely keep back – unless one of their own was being hurt, then they'd probably stay and fight it out.

The middle section of the group were all sneering and shallow breathing, all displaying anticipation and some fear.

"Did you not hear me, Criminal?" The front of the arrow asked, the whole group put off slightly by her continuing silence and that she still had her back to them. She watched a male in the middle of the group frown at the man next to him, worried and unsure.

"Maybe she doesn't understand simple language," one female laughed from the middle of the group, where she was leaning suggestively against a large muscular male colleague. Seeal clocked her as the type who got off on watching others belittled and pained. The male she was leaning on had a solid and determined look to his jaw, his large arms crossed. Arrogant body language before a fight.

"Hey!" The front man shouted this time, and Seeal finally gifted him with her full attention.

She was in no way surprised he was the one leading this little attack force. He'd displayed the most dominating and aggressive body language, and he clearly held a superior social status among many of the Recruits. She'd never seen him without the two males currently stood behind his shoulders – one of which had been the lone Recruit in the gym earlier.

"Did you want something?" Seeal asked offhandedly, her back still to them. It would piss them off, especially the lead male.

He had a very square set to his features and shoulders, his appearance presumably attractive to his age group. She could see the arrogance written all over his manner and face. He was here to make a point, which was no doubt obvious in his head, but he was really here to make himself feel powerful. As predicted, he stepped forward, the two males at his shoulders moving with him, hoping to physically intimidate her. He clearly should have done his research.

"Yes, there is," Square Head stated, "its time you understood that you're not welcome here."

Seeal gave him a confused frown. "I think that was pretty obvious."

The insult was not well received, especially not when Square Head was at the lead of his band – he had to look in control and powerful. Nothing would damage this man more than the loss of respect and dominance. In Seeal's experience, left unchecked, that kind of behaviour could turn very nasty.

"This Facility is not for those like you," Square Head ignored her comment. "Your kind aren't wanted here."

"My kind?" Seeal repeated as she finally turned round to face them.

All their eyes had dropped to her hands as they had come into view, but holding a towel was hardly a threat to them. Most faces relaxed at the absence of a weapon, but a few in the group tensed up, preparing themselves for the fight to come.

The three at the back looked away and shifted themselves slightly further away from the main group. The uncomfortable male in the middle focused on her more intently.

"If by 'my kind'," she considered, "you mean someone invited to work here by the Elite, then I think I should be here."

There were a few frowns at that, and Square Head stepped forward another pace. He would have to bolster his group's nerve now.

"If the Honoured Elite have you paying off some debt for all your evil deeds, then that is their decision, but you need to understand where you stand here," Square Head stated, fists clenched and partly raised at his sides. He was building himself up for violence.

"And where do I stand here?" She asked politely.

"At the _very_ bottom," Square Head declared with glee, pleased she had given him that opening.

"Alright," she agreed. "I knew that already, _obviously_ , but if you needed that clarifying then, yes."

Square Head's nostrils were flaring now. "You think you can get away with manipulating the Elite and the Alliance, you're wrong."

"Logical thinking isn't really your thing, is it," Seeal told him, baiting him in a little closer.

"Go ahead and insult us, Dreamstation," Square Head challenged as he stepped forward again, now within strike range, his two henchmen tensed and ready a step behind him. "Go ahead," he threatened.

Seeal made a show of sighing loudly. "Clearly this is headed in one direction – you want to fight this out, prove your mettle against a piece of criminal scum like me etcetera etcetera. I get it, I do."

Two at the back abruptly broke away and disappeared down the corridor.

"Oh, there are a few brains among you," she noted as the rest of the group registered the departures. The one remaining undecided male at the back, who had short curly ginger hair, met her gaze. She lifted her eyebrows at him.

Ginger Hair left.

Ten – better odds.

"So, if we're going to do this," she returned her attention to Square Head, "I want you to know that this fight is your making and any resulting injuries to any of you are your own fault," she echoed a speech she had given so often on Dream. "I will try not to do too much damage," she added, which was met with some laughter in the group, but a few more worried looks were spreading.

"Go ahead and try," Square Head leant forward, his sneer and breath competing for worst position on her senses.

"If any one pulls any weapons of any kind," she continued, "then all attempts to pull my punches will stop and I will not be held responsible for any broken bones, concussions, or death. Understood?" She asked patiently, her feet planted ready, her fingers loosing on one end of the towel while tightening her grip on the other end.

Square Head, unsurprisingly, threw the first punch.

00000  
TBC


	9. The Answers in the Aftermath

0000000

 **Chapter 9 – The Answers in the Aftermath**

 _Elite Training Facility_

The early morning sunlight streaked through the narrow tall windows behind Massa, adding new shadows and highlights to the dried blood splatter patterns across the corridor floor.

There weren't as many as he had expected, but what there was told a clear and useful story, one which he would be educating the rest of the Recruit trainees about later. Wherever there was a fight in the Facility, the site was always used as a training tool afterwards. Today's was especially useful.

Massa stepped back until he reached the point at the head of the splatters – Seeal had started here then, and worked her way forward, to the left, round and through back to the middle of the attacking group, one offshoot off to the right, then onwards towards the back. By the time the spatter patterns reached the far side of the corridor, where access to escape down the hallway would have been her target, the blood formed a larger pool.

One of the younger less experienced Recruits had apparently pulled a small blade towards the end of the fight. Stood at the back, he'd seen his fellow warriors fall and he had lost his nerve and had pulled out a more deadly weapon. Seeal had responded with more force, but the man had walked away. His forearm fracture was still being set though – both bones, clean through. Another teaching session for that particular Recruit.

Massa walked forward, assessing each pattern, picking out the sequence of the attacks, blood droplets overlaying each other telling which had fallen first. A bloodied palm print to one side was someone attempting to get back up, another smaller pool next to it might have been that Recruit being put back down again.

Massa followed the patterns through, creating a picture of the sequence from his observations that he would be able to confirm later when he watched the recording of the fight. He glanced up towards the far wall where the small camera was obvious, as they all were throughout the Facility. What the Recruits hadn't worked out, and should have done, was that there was a second feed that had kicked in when they had tried to loop the main live feed. If they had worked that out and cut the power to the camera network, it would still not have worked as each camera had its own individual battery power cell that would keep it running for several hours. Another lesson for the Recruits to learn from.

The fight had revealed a lot and would work as an excellent example for the others; just as he, Maja, and Edfu had expected.

The only negative, Massa considered with a frown, was that he now had something concrete to report to Oneakka about Seeal, which meant breaking the information stalemate. Why did Oneakka always win these things? His stubbornness was like some sort of actual power that he applied in ways that nearly always got him what he wanted.

Aki stirred against Massa's chest, the little boy fighting a post-first meal snooze. He had eaten a good sized bowl of porridge this morning, with only a minimum amount of fuss when the food had come to an end. The boy was learning.

Massa glanced down into the new harness he had had constructed to carry Aki. The boy was growing fast and had outgrown the latest sling too quickly. Aki blinked up at Massa, clearly fighting against his sleepy blinks. His little face was focused on Massa, somehow aware of Massa's own silent studied focus. Massa stroked Aki's hair reassuringly and returned his attention to the corridor.

Footsteps down the hallway foretold of Maja's approach. Massa ran his eyes back over the scene as he waited for her to arrive, running through his prediction of the fight once more. He had to admit he was looking forward to seeing the fight, after all he had heard a lot about Seeal's skills. He'd only interacted with Seeal in a superficial brief fashion, first on the Sythus after he had helped bring down Karthig, and then when Seeal had first arrived in the Facility. He had reminded her plainly of the rules of the Facility, which Edfu and Maja had already described, and he'd had little to do with her since. He had passed her several times in the corridors, had visited the research project room himself, and she had always made eye contact and nodded politely each time. Each time though, Massa had watched her with increased interest – this was a woman who had caught Oneakka's eye and therefore was something very unique. He couldn't wait to see how this was going to play out, because it was about damn time that Oneakka lost his head to passion. Everyone did eventually, even him.

Not that Oneakka was happy about it, but that only made it even more fun to watch, in Massa's opinion.

Though how Oneakka would react to Seeal having been cornered and attacked here in the Facility... he had to have expected it, as Massa had, but he wouldn't be happy about it. It was going to be interesting.

Maja arrived into the wider part of the corridor, her dark boots appearing on the edge of Massa's view of the larger blood pool.

"Good morning," Massa greeted the Facility's Security Co-Lead as he looked up. The length of the night shift was obvious on Maja's features, her tiredness showing in darkened areas under her eyes and in the impatience in her posture.

"Five hours, Honoured Elite," Maja replied in turn.

"Aki had just fallen asleep when I received the report of the hack into the camera feed," he replied, his eyes back on the blood droplets before his boots. Aki had given in to the lull of sleep and was currently breathing soft and steady against Massa's upper chest.

"I assumed five hours would be enough time for all of them to be treated in the Healing Bay," Massa added, lifting his tone as a question.

"The last has been treated," Maja confirmed, which also explained why she had appeared now. "They're all sat in the corridor outside the Healing Bay, waiting."

"You've spoken with them?" He checked.

"I've been waiting for you."

"Good," Massa nodded as he looked back up at the camera. "Have you watched the recording of the fight?"

"Of course," Maja replied, her impatience not insulting. The woman was rarely ever cheerful, but she was not aggressive or disrespectful. She was exceptional at her job, which was focused on security, but often involved picking Recruits up off the floor. However, this was one of the first times that the Recruits had fought someone not of their own number, and therefore she had to be directly involved. She wasn't happy about it, but then she wasn't happy about Seeal's presence here anyway.

"I have had five hours after all," she added a little bitterly.

"Summary of injuries?" He asked. There was a full report, but he preferred to hear it from her once the Healing Bay had completed their work.

"Plenty of bruises, cuts, split lips, one broken nose, five broken fingers, two or three concussions, and one broken forearm," Maja reported.

"Because he pulled a blade," Massa annotated to make it clear that he knew that part of the preliminary report.

"And there's a few tender testicles as well," Maja added.

"Aren't there always," Massa muttered as he ran his eyes over the scene one last time. The smaller blood pool near the beginning of the fight sequence would likely be the broken nose then – the nose could bleed profusely.

"Seeal's injuries?" He asked with interest. All the blood patterns were cast in clear outward directions, and he couldn't see any indication of any central running blood patterns which would indicate that she was injured enough to bleed.

"Nothing reported by the Healing Bay other than a bruise to one eyebrow," Maja reported with a frown, her eyes running over the scene. "Her skill is worrying," she stated.

"Which is hardly unique in this Facility," Massa pointed out, aware that he felt rather quick to defend Seeal, which he suspected was because of Oneakka's interest in her.

"You know my concerns about her," Maja stated.

"I do," Massa confirmed. "Is there anything in the recording that you feel justifies her being removed from the Facility?" He asked to be sure.

Maja sighed loudly. "No," she confirmed. Massa had known as much, as if there had been, Maja would have kicked Seeal out of the Facility already. "She clearly stated on the recording that the fight was not of her choice, warned them of injuries, and did not initiate the fight."

"Oneakka said she warns before she harms," Massa considered, still wishing he knew if Seeal had warned Oneakka before their first fight. He would have loved to see that fight! Apparently it had ended with Seeal shoving mud in Oneakka's eyes and successfully running away. According to Halling, Oneakka's eyes had stung for days afterwards. Massa would have to find a way of bringing up the incident when Oneakka visited, which was surely going to happen now.

It was definitely going to be interesting.

"Let's go see the Recruits," he decided. They had been kept waiting and worrying for long enough, their blood and sweat long dried.

"Finally," Maja muttered as she fell into step with him.

The walk back into the main Facility areas revealed more people appearing for the start of the day, and it was clear that the news had gotten around. Eyes were wide and interested of all those they passed, though most of those up this early were Facility staff or those still on the night shift.

The main Healing Bay was set off the central lobbies, and, as Maja had reported, the ten Recruits in question were sat along the long bench outside the minor injuries entrance to the Healing Bay. Despite the early hour, plenty of people would have seen them sat there and noted the injuries for gossiping. Just as Massa intended.

One of the Recruits spotted Massa and Maja and the news quickly moved down the line, all of them sitting up straighter, where possible, all eyes snapping forward to attention; which resulted in the Recruits having to look across the corridor to where Seeal was sat alone on the opposite side of hallway. She looked bored, one elbow on one knee, her chin supported in her hand.

As he approached, Massa kept his eyes on Seeal, noting the faint bluish bruise over her right eyebrow. It wasn't a heavy bruise, so most likely had resulted from her not having blocked a blow quite in time and it had brushed against her brow. Ten Elite Recruits and she had one faint bruise on her brow! No wonder Oneakka liked her.

As Massa reached the row of tense respectful Recruits, Seeal finally noticed his approach and sat up straight herself, and he was almost certain he saw a flash of worry cross her face before she schooled it back under control.

Massa ignored the Recruits as he headed into the Healing Bay. He quickly located one Healer who looked like she was free to look after Aki for him for a few minutes. The woman happily took Aki and the harness from him, the babe familiar to most of them here as Massa always kept his son with him for his own visits and surgeries for his arm. Fortunately, there were no more surgical interventions required, but Aki was clearly still welcome. Woken by the disturbance of being lifted out of the harness, Aki grumbled, but then smiled sleepily at all his new attention. Massa left him in safe hands and returned back out of the Healing Bay's entrance.

Maja was stood in the doorway, facing the line of Recruits, all of which were still sat straight and alert. Massa stepped up to Maja's side and considered the line, looking at each Recruit in turn, noting names, injuries and attitude. A few down the far end looked sheepish and nervous, their chosen seat telling of itself; they were distancing themselves from the central group of the attack force.

Sat in the centre of the line, sat tall and proud, despite his dried split lip, was the Recruit known as Schenk. Massa was not surprised Schenk had been at the head of this little group. He was a dedicated Recruit, always working hard in his training and striving always, but Massa did not care for the man. It was not his job to like the Recruits, but Schenk worried him slightly. It was clear that Schenk worked as hard as he could, but not so much to perfect his own skill, but in order to outperform everyone else. Massa did not doubt Schenk's dedication to become an Elite, but there was too much need for status and power in the young man.

Even now, sat with a bloodied lip and his group clearly defeated, Schenk held himself with pride; he believed in his actions and was looking up at Massa directly and attentively.

The two men on either side of Schenk were always at his elbows, the two men living off the social power of Schenk within the Recruit community. One of them had the broken nose, half his face swollen with it, and the other man was holding a bag of ice against his groin with a hand sporting a wrapped broken finger.

Massa continued looking down the line, the youngest male with the broken arm sat with his eyes downcast, the pain clear on his face. He would have been given painkillers, but they could only do so much immediately after such an injury. He would be out of physical training for weeks.

The last man on the far end of the line met Massa's eyes directly and then lowered his gaze, understanding what Schenk did not – they were not here to be praised or simply told off for their ambush. The Recruit's eyes strayed across to Seeal sitting almost opposite him and away again.

Massa considered the line of injured youngsters, Schenk in the middle frowning a little now, concern starting to creep into the dark stubborn parts of his brain.

"The location of the ambush was well chosen," Massa began. "The time of day, late evening after the target's workout, was a good enough choice as well." Schenk smiled a little at that, his chest puffed out with growing pride.

"But that was all that was good," Massa added. "The rest was poorly thought through, embarrassingly ignorant in places, and highly questionable as to your intelligence."

The atmosphere in the corridor shifted dramatically.

Massa looked up and down the line, all eyes lowering, except Schenk.

"The first mistake," Massa elaborated, "was not picking up on a second camera feed." A few frowns looked worried and embarrassed. "You never go into any battle or interaction with an 'enemy' without initiating a blocking frequency for any local tech. This has been explained many times, and yet, none of you had the thought to do so here."

Because they felt at home in the Facility and hadn't thought anything through thoroughly enough. Which was the problem.

"The second mistake," Massa continued to the line, "was your delayed attack. If you are going to engage an enemy, you do not stand around talking and declaring your intentions. If you really mean to attack, then you do so. Battle is used to defend others. If you are training to become an Elite because you think it makes you more powerful than others, then you will die very quickly out there. Wraith are _always_ more powerful, stronger, and faster than you will _ever_ be. If you believe you will ever be more powerful than a Wraith, then you should leave your training now."

Massa looked at the Recruits in turn as he spoke, willing them to actually listen and learn.

"Out in the stars, Wraith will not stand around allowing you the opportunity to corner them, and if you do manage to corner them, you do not stand around talking to them," Massa explained the obvious. "You either fight or you do not. There is no in-between in battle."

"Then there is the largest mistake, one which calls into question whether you should even be allowed to train here," Massa stated, letting annoyance slide into his voice. The Recruits looked alarmed now, even Schenk was looking worried.

"Can anyone tell me what was the most stupid mistake you all made?" He asked the line.

No one seemed to know what to say, but some appeared to be honestly trying to think about it.

"Did no one pick up on the most obvious and basic starting point that we've taught you from your first days of strategy training?" He prompted.

Silence and lowered heads were his only response.

"Well then," he said with clear disappointment, "maybe you should return to those first training days. In fact, all of you will report to first tier strategy lessons for the next month. Perhaps with the ten year old children you will learn what is most important."

Maja shifted next to Massa, rubbing her nose which he suspected was covering her urge to smile at that comment.

"Since you have all forgotten," Massa continued, "let me remind you of the most obvious fact that _will_ save your life repeatedly if you last long enough to graduate from this Facility, and that is _research_. You do _not_ go into _any_ situation without doing your research first."

He looked up and down the line, most eyes meeting his again, all eager to listen and learn now.

"You gather everything you can and then you _assess_ that research," Massa explained what was taught to them constantly, but clearly they hadn't learnt to properly apply. "For example, we have here," he indicated in Seeal's general direction to his left, "a woman who worked as a Security Lead for Dreamstation for ten years. Dreamstation being one of the most dangerous locations outside of Wraith touch, where the worst of humanity's criminals and killers spend their leisure time and conduct business. Did it occur to any of you, to think of what kind of skills she might have to do that job? What level of experience she has gained in that time? Did any of you consider that perhaps you, untrained, well over a decade younger, unseasoned, and highly inexperienced might not be able to match her?"

"Or was it that you thought that she is only human, she was alone, and you are Elite Recruits all that mattered?" Massa pushed. "When, in any of your training, did we tell you to team up against a single human female, corner her and attack her? Does that sound like behaviour _ever_ worthy of an Elite warrior?"

All eyes were directed towards the floor.

"Have you forgotten why you are here?" Massa intoned loudly, his voice no doubt carrying out down the corridor into the lobby beyond. "Why you learn to fight? We protect the innocent, we protect life. We go into the dark places where no others dare to go and we do so to save lives, often losing our own in doing so."

Silence echoed after his voice, even the Healing Bay and the nearby lobby were silent. No doubt all ears were listening.

"You are all on permanent report," Massa stated. "You will all be lowered a training level, as clearly you do not deserve to remain with your current training tier, and you will be closely monitored. You will also be assigned additional work to assist in cleaning the Facility's floors. One more infraction of any kind by any of you will result in your training ending immediately."

Massa glared up and down the line of silent and dejected Recruits. Schenk now had his eyes lowered, his hands on his lap instinctively covering his groin.

"This event will be noted in your permanent record as being both disrespectful to the decisions of the Elite, and also noted as a criminal offence in attacking an unarmed human."

Massa let all of that settle into their heads and hearts. Nothing was more embarrassing to a Recruit than dishonouring and disrespecting the Elite. All Elite warriors would hear of it and all the other Recruits would know, especially as this group would be going down a training tier. If these Recruits had wanted status, it was the last thing they would ever have now.

He could add more, but decided it was enough. They had heard him, they had been dressed down, and seeing how each individual would react to this in the years ahead would show their true character.

Massa turned away from them, back towards the entrance to the Healing Bay, which brought Seeal into view.

She was sat straight, her eyes wide and no small amount of surprise in her expression.

He considered her for a beat, meeting and holding her direct eye contact. He could see nervousness behind those eyes; she was waiting for her turn.

"I suggest," he told her, "that the next time you suspect you are going to be attacked, that you tell someone. That is how things work here."

In a blink, her nervousness transformed into defiance, her chin lifting. "I suggest that the next time you decide to use someone as bait to teach your students a lesson, that you tell that person first."

He held her gaze. She had a point.

He angled his head to concede it to her.

No wonder Oneakka liked her – she was just like him; boldly standing up for herself and speaking her mind. When she had thought herself in danger, she hadn't gone to anyone for help; she had instead headed into the fray to sort it out herself.

Just like how Oneakka would go about it.

This was definitely going to be interesting.

00000

 _Atlantis_

The time was finally here, the IOA were going to be sending their people to Atlantis and things would start moving forward with the Alliance and the Elite. It would all be fine and then the meal with Teyla's family would be fine.

It was all going to be fine.

John hoped if he repeated it enough to himself, that it would come true. Yet, as he stood in the busy Gate Room, hoping his uniform had been pressed enough, he couldn't help shake a nervous edge. He could see the same in the others; Ford was adjusting his own jacket, not that he ever looked less than presentable, and even Rodney had emerged from the Infirmary to be here for the IOA's arrival.

John glanced at his watch again and then up at the limited view up into the Control View. Colonels Carter and Sumner were at the consoles just in view, both talking with Woolsey, who was wearing one of his best ties. John was surprised that he knew that fact, but he'd been spending a lot of time with the man in the last months. Today's selection was a dark blue silk tie that he rarely wore, so had to be one of the more expensive or sentimental. The Colonels were in their usual uniforms, fortunately having decided that Blues would have been too much, but both looked somehow smarter than usual.

Nerves were high, but there was also a sense of excitement about. Ford's frequent reference to maybe getting "space guns" from the Alliance was only raising everyone's hopes higher. John knew enough about trade to know that trading biros and kitchenware wasn't going to be enough to get that, but maybe in return for the Retrovirus...

So much felt on the line, but John reminded himself that the IOA were apparently behind the new contract, so it would be fine.

It was just the worry as to who they would be sending through from Midway, what they might change in Atlantis and who they might blame for certain things. John glanced back up at Colonel Carter worryingly.

He hoped that the IOA weren't going to completely muscle in and take over everything their way. Colonel Carter had done great things here.

The Gate began to light up and all eyes snapped to it.

"Gate Activation," came the unnecessary announcement from Chuck over the Control Room's speakers.

Everyone began lining up around the room, the atmosphere of excitement rising.

"Everyone," Sumner loudly commanded from the top of the steps, "Backs straight, eyes front!" He commanded, the room snapping into parade ready precision straight backs and level shoulders.

John straightened, Ford bumping into his shoulder as he slid into his perfect posture. John glanced round to see Cadman and Lorne alongside Ford, all tall and ready. Rodney stood beyond them, Radek at his side, the two looking faintly out of place next to the military presentation. John shared a hopefully smile with Rodney before he looked forward, the wormhole snapping forward and ripping back into place.

"Midway Station IDC confirmed," Chuck announced for everyone. "Lowering shield."

The red light flared momentarily across the Gate as the shield fell away and all eyes focused on the watery entrance from Midway.

Colonels Sumner and Carter and Woolsey arrived into the empty space to John's left, standing ready and waiting along with everyone else. They were all in this together, whatever that was going to be.

The faint shift across the surface of the event horizon heralded the imminent arrival of someone and abruptly two people stepped through, one slightly ahead of the other.

The first was a familiar face – Ambassador Joe Faxon. John felt instantly more relaxed; he'd worked with the guy a lot during the Non-Aggressive Treaty talks with the Alliance not all that long ago. He was a good guy, friendly, and sported a serious obvious crush on Colonel Carter.

The person stepping up to his side, her eyes wide and taking in the large crowded Gate Room, was an Asian woman that John didn't recognise. She, like Faxon, wore a big rucksack on her back, but she was also carrying a metal briefcase in one hand. She wore a dark well-tailored suit and had her long black hair pulled back into a smooth ponytail at the nape of her neck.

Another ripple of the Gate brought out another arrival, another face that John didn't recognise. He was a man in his perhaps 50s or 60s, also dressed in a suit, but decidedly more tweedy than the other two. He also wore a full backpack that spoke as to how long they expected to be here. The man looked up and around the Gate Room with slightly wide eyes, but nothing else obvious in his face. People usually looked more impressed.

A final ripple of the Gate's surface spat out the final member of the party, and this face was far more familiar. All the military personnel in the room abruptly stood to even tighter attention, Sumner snapping a salute as General Jack O'Neill arrived in Atlantis.

Carter strode instantly forward, the cue for the greeting party to follow her. Slightly thrown by the arrival of O'Neill, John was a step behind as he, Woolsey, Sumner and Carter moved towards the four new arrivals, meeting them in the middle of the Gate Room.

"Welcome to Atlantis," Carter greeted them. John thought he heard some surprise in her voice.

"It's great to be back, Colonel Carter," Faxon was the first to reply, his grin wide and bright as he reached out to shake her hand.

"It's great to have you back, Ambassador," Carter replied as the gate shutdown behind the new arrivals.

"Colonel," Faxon happily shook her hand. "May I introduce my colleagues," he indicated the unknown woman on his left. "May I introduce Shen Xiaoyi, representative of the IOA."

"Ms. Shen," Carter shook hands with the woman. "We've met before."

"It is good to see again, Colonel Carter," Shen replied with a polite political-like smile.

"May I introduce," Carter replied, "Colonel Sumner and Major Sheppard," she introduced them all in turn.

As John shook the woman's hand, he felt she was looking at him with particular worrying interest. Beside her, the tweed dressed man seemed to be staring too.

"Major Sheppard," Ms Shen smiled politely.

"And of course you know Mr Woolsey," Carter finished.

"Richard," the two shook hands.

"Shen," Woolsey smiled at her. "You're looking well."

All the sweet polite talk felt a little fake, but John went with it, while all the time aware that General O'Neill was looking around the Gate Room with distracted interest, not having yet joined the meet and greet line. Typical O'Neill behaviour.

The man was legendary in the SGC and here in Atlantis, but John had a special regard for the guy, because it had been O'Neill who had offered him a place here on the Atlantis expedition. If John hadn't been the one to fly the General out to the Antarctica Ancient site, he would never have ended up dodging a rogue Drone, then learning that aliens actually existed and then invited to come here to Pegasus. If it weren't for General O'Neill he wouldn't be here now, and he wouldn't have met Teyla.

"May I also introduce," Faxon indicated the unknown guy beside Shen, "Professor Aldrich Morgan."

"Professor Morgan," Carter reached out to shake the man's hand. "I have been a follower of your work for some time."

Professor Morgan shook her hand with an honest enough smile. "Thank you, Colonel Carter," he replied, his accent European, but John couldn't quite pin it down. "I have heard a great deal about your good work here and back in the Milky Way." That sounded positive.

"I wasn't aware that you were assisting the IOA and Earth Defence," she asked the Professor, clearly digging for information.

"I have only been advising the SGC for the last year or so," the Professor replied, his words clipped by his accent. "But have been on several off-world missions back home."

"Professor, this is Mr Woolsey," Faxon stepped in with the next introduction. "As you know, he has been working very closely with our allies on the planet Athos."

The Professor shook hands with Woolsey. "I have read all of your very detailed and thorough reports, Mr Woolsey", the Professor replied, the comment clearly meant as a compliment.

"Thank you, Professor. I look forward to working with you," Woolsey smooched back.

"Colonel Sumner, who runs the military operation here in Atlantis," Faxon introduced the Colonel.

"Colonel," the Professor nodded.

"Professor," Sumner replied, equally as abrupt.

"And, Major Sheppard," Faxon smiled at John.

John found himself once again the focus of Professor Morgan's intense scrutiny "Pleased to meet you, Professor," John held out his hand.

The Professor shook his hand with a strong firm shake. "Major Sheppard, I am pleased to meet you."

Was he?

"I look forward to working with you in the days to come," the Professor added. It felt almost like a threat, or maybe a promise. John wasn't used to this political thing – maybe it was a compliment.

"And of course," Faxon smiled, "you all know General Jack O'Neill."

All eyes turned to the General as he finally slid into his place at the end of the line of new arrivals.

"General," Carter greeted him.

"Colonel," O'Neill replied with a nod and half smile.

"General," Sumner put in next.

"Colonel," O'Neill repeated the title, but more serious this time.

"General," John decided to jump in next.

"Major," O'Neill replied, his dark eyes falling on John with that strange stern but also mocking look that the man did so well. He had also drawn out John's title in such a way that implied John might be in trouble about this whole contract thing after all.

"General," Woolsey put in last.

"Dick," O'Neill replied, the name accurate enough, but just on the edge of an insult, which again was so very typical of the General.

Despite the possible telling off coming his way, John felt a lot better with O'Neill here. He was the kind of guy that you trusted and who understood what really mattered. He was perhaps a slightly surprising choice in the IOA team, but then he was pretty damn experienced in dealing with alien worlds and was pretty high up in Earth Defence nowadays.

"It's a pleasure to have you all here," Carter concluded.

"Colonel Carter," Professor Morgan put in, "I wonder if I could ask if we might have a meal before we begin our meetings. As amazing as the Midway Station is as a piece of technology, the food there was a little less to be desired."

"Of course," Carter smiled. "I will have Major Lorne here and his team escort you to your quarters and then on to the Mess Hall. We can then meet in say an hour's time up in the Conference Room." She indicated the top of the stairs. "Major Lorne will see you there."

"Thank you, Colonel," the Professor nodded and turned away towards where Lorne was stepping out of the line up.

"I'll meet you all later," O'Neill told the others in his group, "got to inspect the troops," he indicated the full Gate Room.

"We'll see you in the Conference Room, General," Faxon nodded as the three moved away, following Lorne and his team out of the room.

Their departure didn't lessen the parade style tension in the room, as the General was still here, but John felt himself relax with them gone.

O'Neill was looking up and around at the Gate Room again as he moved front and centre of the two Colonels. "Nice digs," he concluded, mostly to Carter.

"It's good to have you here, General," Carter smiled back at him. The two had worked together for years, so John imagined that they would be spending the evenings gossiping, but they were professional enough right now.

"General," Sumner cut in. "What's going on then?"

"Let's go up to my office," Carter interrupted though.

"Yes, to your office," O'Neill agreed as if it was the most exciting option.

"I can have someone take your bag to your quarters?" Carter offered to him, the ease of their friendship obvious in the way she leant slightly closer to him as she asked the question.

"I'll dump it there later," the General dismissed the offer, his rucksack having been in his hand the entire time rather on this back. "Besides," he added, "Sheppard can carry it for me."

The bag was abruptly incoming and John managed to catch it, or rather block it, from smashing into his face.

"Yes, Sir," he muttered from behind the bag. Yep, he was in trouble.

The weight and thickness of the rucksack implied the General wasn't here for just an overnight stay.

John dutifully carried the General's bag up to the Control Room as Sumner disbanded everyone out of the Gate Room. Carter pointed out the dialling console to the General as they passed by it, pointing out the Ancient button that triggered the Gate's shield. Which was followed by Chuck looking slightly uncomfortable as the General asked if he could press his button.

The procession moved on quickly to the bridge across to Carter's office, and John followed his three superiors and Woolsey into the glass-walled office and put the General's bag carefully down to one side.

"Surprised to see you here, General," Sumner began the discussion, his attitude more direct and involved than usual, but then O'Neill was one of 'his people', namely military.

"No one more than I, Colonel," O'Neill replied glibly as he began strolling around Colonel Carter's office, looking at everything with interest. "I'm here to represent Earth Defence's interests."

"So, Earth Defence and the IOA are definitely supporting the new contract with the Alliance?" Carter asked as she settled down into her chair behind her desk.

"They are now, now they've all calmed down after the shit storm kicked up by the Major here with his little marriage stunt," the General replied.

All eyes turned on John. He tried not to squirm under the four pairs of eyes.

"Um, sorry, Sir," John offered weakly. "But, I honestly believe it's in the best interests of-"

"Yes, yes," O'Neill interrupted him with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I've started enough shit storms of my own over the years." Colonel Carter nodded emphatically at that. "As Carter here will attest," O'Neill indicated her agreement. "But, if you get anymore 'smart' ideas, you talk to me first about it, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," John nodded, aware that he was standing to attention, his hands clasped behind his back like he was a cadet again.

"Or Carter here, or Sumner," O'Neill continued. "Maybe Dick, if there's no one else around." John saw Carter look down, clearly hiding a smile. "But, you don't go making big deals like this without talking to someone first. Don't do it again, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Sir," John agreed quickly.

"Right," O'Neill seemed happy with that. "Now that the initial freak out back home has passed, we've got a damn good looking deal on the table and Earth's not about to let it slip through our fingers."

The dressing down seemingly over, John was doubly relieved to hear that.

"The President has asked me to join the IOA posse to meet and greet with the Elite and get a clearer idea of what we're getting from this deal from a military perspective. I'm all for trading trinkets and making some cash for back home with biros and buttons, but we might have another sweet deal here like we did with the Asgard. Or we might have a deadly new enemy ready to strike at us. Either way, Earth wants a clearer picture of how we're going to work with the Elite and the Alliance Military."

"We really don't believe the Alliance and Elite are going to turn against us," Carter assured him.

"If so, then we need to start working with them to start kicking some Wraith ass," O'Neill replied. "We can't just keep sending Sheppard here in to stumble through."

John frowned at that, though aware it was meant to tease.

"We're all for it, General," Sumner agreed. "But does the IOA have the stomach for it?"

O'Neill pulled a face. "They're starting to recognise that we can't just sit on our asses and wait for the Alliance to sort out the Wraith for us. As the Alliance pushes the Wraith further out, that's only going to focus the Wraith's culling in our area of the galaxy."

"Are we going to get anymore ship support?" Sumner asked.

"The Daedalus is on her way back now, and the Apollo is going to be heading here within weeks. There's another two new Daedalus-class ships currently under construction. They should be ready within the year and at least one should be utilised here in Pegasus."

"That's great," John found himself saying.

"Our best weapon yet though," the General continued, "is this new retretro-what not virus of Beckett's."

"Retrovirus," Carter corrected the word.

"Retrovirus," O'Neill repeated the word. "With that virus, if we can get it to work, we could bring down all the Wraith in one fell swoop."

"But it doesn't work," Sumner pointed out. "Beckett's hit a wall, in more ways than one."

John glared at his superior's profile, annoyed at that comment.

"Then we need to get the project back on point," O'Neill concluded, hands in his uniform pockets. "How is Beckett?" He asked, mostly of Carter.

"He's doing better physically," she reported. "Psychologically it may take longer."

O'Neill nodded, clearly understanding what that meant. All of them did, well, except maybe for Woolsey, who had kept silent so far in this meeting.

"Maybe getting some movement on the retrovirus will help," O'Neill suggested. "Have the Elite asked us directly about the virus?"

"Sort of," John considered. "They know we have it, they're interested in it, but they haven't come outright to ask about using it."

"They may be attempting to replicate it themselves," Woolsey put in from one of the more comfortable blue chairs. "They know about the Ancient gene and they have people who have a possible Wraith gene."

"They're called Seekers," John supplied.

"So, they might be working on their own version of the retrovirus," Woolsey suggested.

"If so, then they don't have it working yet either," O'Neill considered. "All the better to start working together on it. Think they'll bite, Sheppard?"

All eyes were on him again. "I think so," John considered. "But, I think we need to do it right. There's no leader of the Elite, no hierarchical structure at all that I've seen. Now we have the contract with them, we could set up a meeting with their representatives to discuss it directly."

O'Neill nodded. "You think your new wife will arrange that for us?"

John tried not to feel uncomfortable at the reference. "I think she'll expect to organise a meeting once you've all met Torren on Athos. There might even be a few other Elite staying on Athos who you can meet."

"Good," O'Neill nodded.

"Who's the Professor?" Sumner asked next.

"Professor Morgan," Carter answered him, "is a foremost expert on conflict resolution."

"He's into all that psycho stuff," O'Neill added as he returned to his strolling perusal of Carter's office, moving around behind her desk to look at her displayed photo frames.

"Professor Morgan studied political science and psychology, publishing highly respected papers and books on how to understand and resolve conflict," Carter explained further. "I know that he's worked for various institutions, Governments and private companies over the years, but I thought he'd settled down into teaching at Oxford."

"He did," O'Neill supplied. "But, he's also an advisor of sorts to the White House from time to time and they brought him in to help with a small little problem at the SGC a little while back."

"Small little problem?" Carter asked him with a smile.

"I had nothing to do with it," he excused immediately. "Daniel started that particular problem."

Carter's smile became softer. "I'm surprised Daniel didn't come here with you."

"Oh, he tried," O'Neill replied.

"I hardly see the current situation as requiring someone with Professor Morgan's particular focus," Woolsey put into the conversation. "We're not in conflict with the Alliance."

"Not right now," O'Neill agreed as he picked up a photo frame and showed it pointedly to Carter. John couldn't quite see which photo it held. "But we need to be careful. All your reports make it clear that not everyone in the Alliance is singing from the same hymn sheet and the IOA were more than happy to use someone with the Prof's experience and brains to keep things sweet."

John wondered if Woolsey thought he was being ousted by the Prof.

"He would have been more useful during the Non-Aggression Treaty talks." Yep, Woolsey sounded grumpy about it.

O'Neill turned away from Carter's photos, leaning back against the shelf. "But he's here now and they want him keeping things nice and friendly with the Alliance."

John still had a question though. "Is the IOA thinking about changing things here in Atlantis?" He risked asking.

O'Neill's full attention landed on John again. "I don't have a say on how they run things here," he answered, which was surprisingly careful wording from the General. "But, right now they're too stirred up and nervous to do anything new. But, give it a few months, and once we know where we stand with military operations with the Elite and Alliance Fleet, and maybe they'll start throwing their weight around."

"There's always going to be a delicate balance between military and political operations here," Woolsey offered, also carefully to John's ear.

"Nothing new there," Carter agreed.

"And it sounds like the Alliance Military and the Elite are in the same boat," the General added. "Sounds like common ground to me," he grinned.

00000  
TBC


	10. The Return of Home

0000000

 **Chapter 10 – The Return of Home**

 _Just outside Alliance Territory_

"The patch is holding," the warrior confirmed from Long Sleep's side.

"It needs to be presentable," Long Sleep replied, more to himself.

"It is something of fate that it is holding at all," the other warrior answered in a quieter tone, closer now to Long Sleep's side so that he would not be overheard by the others in the chamber.

Long Sleep nodded his agreement. The Cruiser had been pushed to its limits even if it were at full health, but with already sustained damage this long punishing flight was almost too much for the ship.

Long Sleep reached out and touched his fingers to the grafted on flesh, feeling the pulsing life of the Cruiser moving through the new tissue. It had accepted the patch of foreign flesh from one of the smaller ships that had not been able to hold together in this rushed flight towards The Signal.

The others had not been so willing to abandon the ship, but Long Sleep had made the decision to bring the gathering to a brief standstill in order to evacuate the drones and warriors from the dying ship and to strip what they could use from the vessel before it was set on a limping course away from them. They could not have the Armoured Herd detecting an abandoned ship, or even its detonation, this close to their territory.

It had been risk enough to cut across a new corner of the enemy's territory, but though it had paid off in the distance and time they had made up, the extra speed they had used to get through that dangerous part of space had called an end to the smallest ship.

The patches from the abandoned ship were put to good use though, spliced into the fluid vessels and conduits of the other ships. Most of the grafts had held and the gathering was once again continuing on towards the pulling urging source of the calling.

The Signal had reached its full perfection, proof enough that it truly was being generated by a real Hive. Though there was little doubt on that fact now anyway, for the Hive was now visible on long range scanners. Long Sleep had studied the scanner images in great detail and with deep thought. The Hive was not alone, as other smaller dots had been detected around it, which meant that other ships had heard the call and had gotten there first; or were the ships controlled by the enemy and this was all an elaborate trap? Was Long Sleep leading his group of survivors into another explosion of destruction and death?

It was a question that haunted Long Sleep, but alongside that fear lingered the hopeful desperation that his genetics could not deny. The promise of a new Queen...it was an elixir of yearning and –

No, he needed to focus. He could not be drawn into the unthinking attitude of many of the others on the gathering's ships. Just because they all wanted a Queen to truly be calling them in did not mean it would turn out to be that way.

They had to be cautious.

But, if there was a Queen waiting for them, then the ships needed to be as presentable as possible. He could not present the gathering if they were a tattered mess unworthy of her love.

Long Sleep withdrew his fingers from the coursing life of the Cruiser.

Soon enough he would know the answer to his questions, would find out if he and his companions were headed towards their salvation or towards further death.

Soon he would either fill the empty painful silence inside his mind and heart, or he would face the enemy again.

If he was going to go into battle again, he would ensure that his ships were ready to rain absolute destruction upon the Armoured Herd this time.

This time he would not run away.

000000

 _Tjaru - Athos_

Teyla surveyed the echoing emptiness of her new lounge over the top of the full box in her arms. It was the first box of her things to move into her new quarters, packed up from her old room that had been hers since she had been a small girl.

Of course she had lived in plenty of different quarters in the years since, her work with the Elite having providing some of the strangest of sleeping places as well as numerous temporary quarters on various ships, bases, and stations. Though she had permanent quarters on the Sythus and in the Training Facility, it had actually been her quarters here in the Tjaru that she continued to label as her 'home'.

Until today, she had not realised how important her quarters here were to her. As an Elite she should not have kept a home here, should have cut ties to her family, but her life had fortunately not turned out that way. It had been her own decision in truth, not just the fact that she had begun her Elite training at an older age than most, and not just because of Elkaska and Father's influence and respect. No, her heart had never left her family and she had always come back here to the Governing Complex several times a year.

Her visits had grown in number in the last few years, increasing dramatically in the last year, and she suspected that frequency would be more of the norm for her now. Now she was a Political Wife for Athos and the Elite, she had cemented her ties to her Athosian home like never before, and she had to wonder, looking around her bare empty new lounge, if her decision to marry had been unconsciously informed by that fact.

It was so very clear to her how complicated and convoluted her decision to marry had been, where at first she had simply thought it be the best legacy for her to leave for her people...and a way of distancing herself from John. However, it was unwaveringly obvious to her now that her marriage meant far more to her than she had herself realised, and that was even before she had chosen John as her husband.

She had foolishly believed that marrying would not alter her life in any way; that Maloo, who had been her likely husband, would barely register upon her life. How foolish that single premise had been. Her own past denial continued to surprise her.

She remembered Father bringing her in here to her new quarters repeatedly prior to the wedding, suggesting colours for the walls and new furniture if she wished. She had not cared, had said anything would be fine, but that had been denial as well.

Now it was time to move into these new quarters, her first box of items in her arms and assistants already being gathered to carry in her furniture, and she realised how significant a change in her life this was going to be. But it was a change that she could now welcome and it was well past time that she moved out of her childhood room. That those quarters had also been where her relationship with John had come crashing loudly and angrily to a close, made it all the more fitting. Here, she could start new and John's adjoining space would be his to live in during his stays here.

She wandered through the empty lounge towards the open door to her new bedroom. There was already one piece of furniture ready and waiting to be used in here – a wedding gift from Elkaska.

She frowned at the new large bed sitting in the corner of her new bedroom.

Her uncle was not subtle.

It was clearly the largest size he could order - able to fit someone of John's height - and it was clearly a bed big enough for two.

Elkaska had given Zabetha and Rhakshar a similar bed as their wedding present and Teyla had been with him when he had purchased it on Pelydr, so she knew his thinking behind such a gift. He had even dropped a rather obvious comment at that time regarding her and John; a comment she had ignored.

Those days of denial were at an end in all manner of ways.

She moved to the side of the bed, the new mattress giving slightly as she set the box down on its bare surface. Elkaska's message with this gift went far further than just the gift for a new couple though, for the headboard of the bed displayed an elaborate and beautiful carving. The centre of the carving showed both Tjaru and Atlantis, the two cities surrounded by Athosian symbols and Ancestor lettering. She would have to ask Elkaska how he had gotten such an accurate image of Atlantis for the artist, but then if this bed had also been carved on Pelydr, as Zabetha's had been, it may be that the artist had their own unique ability to see such truth.

She reached out and ran her fingers along the raised smoothed design, the lettering spelling out words of unity, peace, and common ground, while the entire design was outlined with flowering vines, a symbol of abundance to her people.

Yes, Elkaska message was not just one of marriage, but of the future that she and John both believed in – a future where by working together their peoples could bring peace to the galaxy.

One particular symbol caught her eye, carved low on the headboard, but very central. She leant forward and ran her fingertips briefly over her people's elaborate symbol for "love". It was a powerful word, in any language.

She withdrew her hand, the word bringing up a wealth of confusion for her in relation to John and this bed.

Though she and John had repaired the basic emotional damage of their arguments and angry words, she had no idea of what the future would be between them. Matters had gotten quite confusing between them, feelings far stronger and more complicated than she would ever have predicted. She knew John felt that complication as well, that he too was cautious about what would come next between them. No doubt her past poor behaviour would make him question matters even further. But, they had parted in reasonably good terms again; had even shared a kiss. That kiss had felt very different to those before it, and her mind had dwelled on replaying it in the weeks since.

It had not been as passionate and intimate as the many kisses they had shared before now, but it had felt more...real than any before. She felt as if she had shared more of her herself in that kiss and had experienced more of John in it too.

That fact was exciting, but it also made her feel quite exposed as well. She had wanted distance from John in order to stop herself feeling exactly what she now pondered; the feelings of love, vulnerability, and the deep fear of losing him.

Then there was the fear of losing herself in this love, and how she was to manage it alongside her work.

She shook her head at her own thoughts; there were no simple and clear lines between work and love when it came to John. He crossed all the boundaries in her life, and that frightened her just as much as it proved to her how important he was to her.

Yet, she also had to face the fact that she and John may not return to their romantic status of before. They may love one another, but a physical relationship might be something of the past.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. A part of her felt relieved to think that they might keep clearer boundaries between them, that it would protect her sense of vulnerability, but another part of her felt desperately sad to lose him in that way.

She already missed him.

He would be here tomorrow though, and she wanted her new quarters reasonably presentable when he arrived. After all, she would need to show him his new adjoining quarters.

She glanced towards the second door in her bedroom – the one that opened into John's adjoining bedroom. She moved towards the door, pushing it open a little further so that she could look into his new bedroom. Stood in the open doorway, she considered the basic new furniture inside. A simple bed, cabinet, and bedside table were all that filled the room, and through the far doorway John's new lounge would hold nothing else but bare new furniture.

She wondered if she should put some fresh flowers in here tomorrow – something to make his new quarters look more inviting for him.

Sounds rose from the far door behind Teyla; her furniture had arrived.

"If the cabinets could go along this wall," Zabetha was instructing the assistants. "Yes, just along there. Yes, that can go over in that corner." Teyla listened to her sister organising her lounge, unconcerned because she had already discussed with Zabetha where she wanted her furniture.

"Ketra!" Zabetha's tone turned annoyed. "Leave them be," she ordered.

"Ketra?" Teyla called out across her bedroom towards the door to the lounge. "Ketra, come," she called.

Ketra's face appeared in the far doorway, her reptilian features somehow convening a worried frown. She would not like that the assistants were moving Teyla's things.

"All is well, Ketra," Teyla assured her. "Let them do their work."

Ketra looked back into the lounge, Zabetha's voice echoing again as she instructed a cabinet to be shifted a little further to the right.

"It is fine, Ketra," Teyla assured her pet once more, and finally Ketra began padding into the bedroom. Teyla had brought her into these new quarters last night so the rooms were familiar enough to her. Ketra paused by the bed and sniffed along the edge of the box Teyla had left on the mattress.

Happy that Ketra was not going to get aggressive with any of the assistants, Teyla returned her attention to John's empty bedroom.

What was she going to say to him tomorrow? She did not know her own mind regarding him and their future, so how was she to sort out matters with him?

What if he had already decided and she would have to accept that he might not wish to touch her ever again?

What if he had already found another woman?

Ketra pushed past her leg, bumping her physically and emotionally from that disturbing thought. Ketra had not come into these adjoining quarters last night, John's bedroom door having been shut, and she seemed quite confused at the new room.

"This is John's room," Teyla found herself explaining.

Ketra looked up at her and then looked back through the doorway behind them as if looking for John.

"He will be here tomorrow," Teyla told her. Some days she worried about how much she talked to Ketra, but she knew Ketra was intelligent and clearly did not mind the chatter.

"This is his new room," she repeated looking around the bedroom again.

Ketra set her nose to the floor and snuffled her way to the closest wall and then began to work her way along the edge of the carpet. She had done this yesterday with Teyla's quarters.

Teyla watched in quiet amusement as Ketra worked her way along one wall to the first corner, puffed and huffed into the corner as if seeking the smell of something that might be hidden there, and then she began working her way along the next wall.

Teyla suspected John would be pleased to know that Ketra was checking the place thoroughly for him. She smiled at the thought of him, imagining how he would agree, his handsome smile lingering in her mind's eye.

She might not know what to say to him tomorrow, but she was always excited to see him.

To know that he was well.

To see his expressively handsome face, and allow herself to feel that glorious charismatic lure of his presence.

At least she would have that in their marriage – the chance to be around him. It might be that they would now become the friends they had always pretended they simply were before they had become lovers. She would accept that state if it was best, and she would deal with the painful beauty of his presence.

That was true love after all – loving regardless of the outcome for oneself.

0000000

 _Atlantis_

The taste of mint exploded through Sam's sinuses as she brushed her teeth. The toothpaste was one of the perks of her position here in Atlantis. By her feet, tucked under the Ancient sink, she had a box of her own personal favourite toothpaste shipped in for her from Earth. There was nothing wrong with the standard military issued toothpaste that most of the city used, but, for Sam, her favourite toothpaste allowed her a twice daily hit of the taste of home.

After all the places she had visited, all the strange locations she had holed up for a night, she had always had this taste of home.

As she brushed her teeth she reached down and checked on her supply. She had had the massive multi-buy box of toothpaste shipped in during her first month here, but she had enough to last her for a good few more months still. She had been worrying for the last few weeks every time she looked down at this box, wondering whether she would get to finish this box in Atlantis or whether she would be heading back home to Earth.

Not that going back home would be a terrible thing, in fact there was more for her there than here, but she felt she still had so much to do here in Atlantis. She wanted to see things through here before she was moved on elsewhere. Though, admittedly, she didn't have much say in where she was stationed.

Not until the day she gave up her military life.

It was a prospect that she thought about almost daily. To stop fighting and worrying, to have no superiors to answer to, no IOA to mollify, and no life and death decisions. Instead she could have a life...doing what?

She couldn't just sit outside the fishing cabin with Jack every day for the rest of her life.

He couldn't even keep to his own retirement plan.

But, then how many people could turn down a phone call direct from the President?

She smiled a foamy smile at herself in the mirror.

Jack was here – here in Atlantis.

She hadn't predicted his arrival, not in a million years, but it explained why he had gone quiet so long these last weeks. He'd never done that to her before, but she'd known it had been for an important reason.

And there he had been, stepping through the Atlantis Stargate as large as life.

She had felt like she'd been hit by an electric current the moment she had recognised him, before he'd even fully emerged from the wormhole.

Her Jack, here in Atlantis.

It was like another jolt of home.

Her two lives merging abruptly into one.

Her smile, foamy though it was, in the mirror reminded her how infrequently she'd been smiling of late. Life was always complicated, but it had started to weigh on her more than ever before of late.

The decisions made here and now regarding the Alliance had the potential to literally change the course of the future – not just for Pegasus, but perhaps for home too. The whole point of the original Atlantis Expedition had been to find new tech and new ways of fighting their enemies. The Alliance provided that just as strongly as Atlantis itself, perhaps even more so. The Atlantis tech was turning out to be far from easy to recreate, but Alliance tech...that could be traded for, exchanged and expanded on in real time. Atlantis could really make a difference – she could help make a difference.

But, she had been afraid that the IOA was going to pull out of this potential chance. Things were difficult back home and those political issues were so often translated into changes in policy here. Her own stationing following the tragic death of Dr Weir had been proof enough of that. She had been the best choice between science and military, but as the days were changing, she had gotten the impression that she had been becoming too military focused for the IOA's tastes.

But, Jack said they weren't looking to make any changes – for now. Which meant that, for the time being, she still had a job to do. She could still help make a difference here.

How long that faith in her would last was anyone's guess, but at least the IOA and Earth Defence were taking matters seriously here.

That Jack had been sent was significant enough.

It was clear he was taking his role here seriously as well, or at least as serious as Jack got about anything. He'd been very involved in the meetings this afternoon and this evening, asking loads of questions, involving himself in all the discussions. It was a side of him that she knew existed, and he had proven with his many promotions and current status in Earth Defence, but she felt especially proud of his keen military mind at work today. To some he had just been an irreverent and determined soldier, but that was just what people saw on the surface. And at times, she suspected, was all that he had seen in himself.

When they had first started working together she had found him a little difficult to deal with, and vice versa. She had been out to hold her own and ensure that the science of the new Stargate discoveries were accepted even though she was a soldier, and Jack had just wanted that side of things covered without him having to understand any of it. But, as time had gone on, she had learnt to appreciate his directness and clarity, and he had begun to appreciate science and trust her opinion without question.

There were few people she trusted more in this life than Jack O'Neill. But, then she had been fortunate to have friends that she could trust and love without equal.

As she wiped her mouth, she glanced down at the half empty box at her feet. Some days she wished she was back in the SGC. She missed Daniel and Teal'c desperately, along with a sea of other names and faces she had worked with for years. Though she trusted many here in Atlantis, no one could ever take the place of SG1 in her heart. She had been very privileged to be a part of the team at a time when everything had changed for Earth. She had been on the forefront of Earth's first steps out into the Milky Way and now to Pegasus.

But, such work took her away from those she loved.

At least one had come to visit her today.

She hadn't arranged to meet with Jack this evening, since he'd told her he was meeting with Professor Morgan after dinner – an announcement that had been accompanied by a dramatic eye roll that was once again all irreverent Jack.

His quarters were only just down the corridor from hers, the larger rooms set aside for special Earth guests. But, she had to be careful here.

Perhaps she would turn in and read for a while.

The door chimes echoed outside her open bathroom door.

She had an open door policy in the City and it was not unusual for someone to visit her to discuss something important, but it was a little bit late for that tonight. So it might be him...

She slipped out of her bathroom and reached for her bathrobe, only for the chimes to ring again, and then once more.

Only one person would play with the door chimes trigger like that.

With a grin, she forgot about putting on the bathrobe and continued on, barefooted and in her black camisole, towards her waiting door.

The chimes repeatedly rang another few times in the short time it took her to reach the door. She waved her hand over the crystals and the doors parted to reveal Jack outside, his hand held poised about to trigger the crystals once again. He pulled his hand back immediately as if caught doing something naughty.

He angled his head back as if disinterested and serious. "I wasn't sure I poked the right crystal," he announced, his eyes sparkling. He knew how to open the doors here; it was just that there wasn't a switch, button, or trigger in existence that Jack wouldn't play with.

"You don't need to poke a crystal, just wave your hand over them," she reminded him as she turned away to lead him into her quarters.

"Where would be the fun in that?" He asked behind her, which was quickly followed by another triggering of the chimes.

She looked back over her shoulder with a grin as he stepped inside her room, the doors sliding shut behind him.

His eyes lifted up from her only just covered backside, the look of forced innocence so familiar it burst a deep powerful warmth throughout her chest.

"I'm just going to check in for the evening," she told him as she headed towards where her earpiece was sat on her coffee table.

"Go right ahead," Jack agreed from behind her, his voice shifting off to the left.

She picked up her earpiece and slid it into place over her ear and triggered it alive. "Control Room, this is Carter. Anything to report?" She asked as she watched Jack reach the windows looking out at her beautiful view of Atlantis at night. He slid his hands into his uniform pockets and contemplated the landscape of lights and sea.

"All's well up here, Colonel," Fletcher reported into Sam's ear.

"Great," Sam smiled, relieved. "I'm going to turn in."

"Yes, Ma'am," Fletcher replied. "Colonel Sumner is on night duty if we need anything."

"See you in the morning," Sam told Fletcher.

"Night, Ma'am," Fletcher's kind English voice replied before Sam switched off the earpiece and slipped it from her ear.

"You all free now?" Jack asked as she double-checked her earpiece was definitely switched off and set it down on the coffee table.

She looked back at him as he casually wandered along the windows, but his eyes were on her, not the view.

She glanced down at her camisole, bare legs and feet and then back at him. "Just a couple more meetings to go to," she joked.

Jack smiled, his eyes sliding down her. "I'll be honest, I'd be okay with that."

She gave him a knowing look as she headed towards him. "I'm sure you would."

He turned to face her, holding his place as she approached him.

"I've got my special dispensation right here," he smiled as he patted his top left pocket.

She pulled at face at him. "You do not," she told him, her smile breaking free, excitement coursing with her fast beating heart. He was really here, in her quarters.

"I carry it everywhere," he told her.

She reached him, but stopped a few inches from him, not touching him just yet. He still had his hands in his pockets, and she kept her hands away from him – for now.

She looked up the tiny distance between them, his smell filling her nose – another scent of home that both eased but also aroused her. He smelt of laundry detergent, aftershave, and that quintessential musk that was just Jack. It all carried to her in the warmth of his body heat in which she stood, almost touching him.

She looked up into his deeply dark eyes, watching him watching her. She could see the smile in those eyes, the delight of life that he always seemed to hold onto despite the horrors they had both seen.

"I do carry it everywhere," he told her a little more seriously.

He was referring to the very special pieces of paper that they both had. When Jack had been asked to rejoin the military following his retirement, or rather when the President had "begged", according to Jack, he had asked for only one thing if he joined Earth Defence. Jack had asked for a special dispensation for their relationship.

Of all the things he could have asked for from the President of the United States, one of the most powerful men on Earth, and Jack had asked for that.

She had never felt more loved.

As they were still in the same chain of command, it was technically inappropriate for her and Jack to continue the relationship they had begun at his retirement. Well, in truth it had been a relationship that had started long before, but the physical side of that love had only started after his retirement. On the day he had officially retired he had shown up in her office and they had actually had 'the conversation' they had managed to avoid for so long. Until that point, everything had pretty much gone unsaid, but still felt. Deeply felt, on her part. On his retirement day, she had had confirmation that he had felt the same just as strongly, but whether that would translate into a proper 'relationship' had been something of a question.

As it had turned out, it had been only the missing piece of a love she had felt for him for a long time. For all their differences in approach to work and science, they seemed to match each other in the strangest ways. She would never have thought she would end up with a man like Jack, but here he was, her true love. A man who had asked the President to allow them to continue their relationship or he wasn't going to return to work.

The President had allowed the request without a pause apparently, and both of them had been granted an official letter confirming the agreement. Sam kept her copy with her other military paperwork, and quite often she pulled out the letter as the amazing evidence of how much Jack really did love her.

Jack, however, swore that he always kept a copy of his letter on him at all times, in case evidence was required. She wasn't entirely sure when such evidence would be required on demand, but Jack insisted.

They had never talked about getting married, but she realised that maybe the letter was something very close to a ring. Maybe that was why he told her he always carried it with him.

He smiled down at her now. "Okay," he cocked his head slightly to one side, "maybe it's not in _that_ precise pocket, but it's in one of them. You'll have to find out which one," he suggested, his voice lowering, his eyes doing the same, focusing on her mouth.

She was acutely aware of her lips as she licked them and stepped across the last few inches between their bodies.

With purpose and focus, she laid both her palms against his warm uniform-covered chest, feeling his ribs expanding with his breath. Her Jack. Here in Atlantis with her.

His hands slid around her sides, the heat of his hands shockingly hot through her thin silk camisole.

She leant into him and arched her back enough to look right up at him. "I'm so happy you're here," she whispered to him.

"Undomesticated equines couldn't stop me," he smiled back.

The laugh started deep in her throat, breaking free to shake her entire body. He could always make her laugh and bring together so many memories and aspects of their lives in one comment.

She was still laughing as his mouth pressed against hers, but the laughter slid away in the passionate rush of the kiss.

There was no taste quite like Jack, and nothing so meaningful of home as being with him.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding onto him tightly as his hands slid over her back and down to cup her backside.

Kissing him was being home, was something without any effort or pressure. With everything they had shared and seen together, there were no barriers between them anymore. She quite happily poured her whole heart and soul into kissing him, to pushing the jacket and shirt from his body.

But, as she was just enjoying his bare hands sliding up under her camisole, his lips broke away from hers in a rush.

"Wait," he asked and looked up and around, "where's the bed?"

She grinned, knowing his brain had only just registered that fact from his earlier perusal of her quarters.

"There's another room," she indicated the closed door through to her bedroom. Unlike most of the rest of the City's staff, she had nice large quarters with two adjoining bedrooms.

"Whew!" Jack looked honestly relieved, "Because those Ancients sure liked hard floors, and there's no way these knees are going to take it."

She pressed her lips to his cheek and breathed in against his light evening stumble. "It's okay," she brushed her lips to his ear, "I'll go on top first."

He was still chuckling as they hit the floor together.

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TBC


	11. The Preparations for Reunion

**Note:** Sorry for the delay in posting new chapters these last weeks – with chasing house purchasing, a cold, and the political events here in the UK, it's been a tad busy.  
I'm glad that people enjoyed the Sam/Jack ship in the last chapter – I've been waiting awhile to add that :)  
For the delay in posting, I am putting up two new chapters this evening. Hope you all enjoy them – let me know.

0000000

 **Chapter 11 – The Preparations for Reunion**

 _Elite Training Facility_

The hatch of the small transport craft slid aside, revealing the way into the interlinked transport lobbies of the Training Facility. It had a been a short journey from the Portal, and one that Oneakka had sat through silently, letting the Recruit pilot sweat nervously as he performed an excellent flight here. The Recruit had slid the craft through a near perfect docking procedure into one of the myriad of craft ports along the transport lobbies of the Facility, into which the craft's hatch opened.

Oneakka strode through the open hatch without pause.

Clearly news of his arrival had preceded him, as Recruits were already turning away and lowering their eyes, attempting to scatter without appearing to be doing so.

A scarce few of them managed to hold their ground, chins lifted and followed with respectful nods, but the fear was always obvious to Oneakka.

It was hardly new for him.

He had no interest in people fearing him – unless it helped get something done. He had no interest in what people thought of him, and the Recruits only feared him because they feared him testing them in the training sessions. He had no interest in consoling Recruits' feelings – they were here to dedicate their lives to battling Wraith. If they weren't strong enough, weren't determined enough, then best to find out now and not on the battlefield where their weakness would get them and/or others around them killed.

Turning up randomly to training sessions was a vague pastime hobby, one he did to check on training standards and as something to do between missions. It had been a while since he'd last visited here, and that fact had probably added to the fear response of the Recruits.

And that he had arrived the day after a group of Recruits had decided to do something particularly stupid.

Recruits did stupid things from time to time, after all they were all hyper confident and determined individuals by selection, so some conflicts and differences of opinion happened on occasion. He'd been involved in a couple such events during his own training years, but never had Recruits attacked a member of the Facility's staff before.

Fights among the Recruits was almost expected and often helped identify the dangerous and the susceptible alike. Cornering a staff member and attacking her en mass had not happened before now and had been dealt with decisively by Massa and Maja already.

Oneakka had suspected the Recruits would react poorly to Seeal's arrival in the Facility, and had predicted a possible confrontation or two, but he hadn't predicted his own response to the news of what had happened.

He'd been enjoying the last day and a half on Mil Hub. He'd finally started to relax and burn off the excess distracted energy that had been bothering him the last couple of weeks. He'd used the station's gyms, sparred with military personnel, swum twice a day in the long leisure pool, and he'd spent the last two evenings eating home cooked late meals with Pampata and Piye.

At first he'd felt somewhat uncomfortable with the invitations, but he had really enjoyed their willingness to just sit and talk over a meal, to laugh and recount stories together. The ease had no doubt also been due to Pampata's decision that his and her casual sexual relationship was at an end, and he was surprised at his easy acceptance of the decision. Pampata would always be one of his closest friends and spending two evenings with her for just her company and nothing else had been relaxing. It had also been clear that Piye had been informed of the change in their relationship, and Pampata's lover was greatly relieved. She had been the more gracious and friendly than ever before – clearly no longer seeing him as competition. Without the sexual component anymore, he'd just been a guest for late meals, and the three of them had talked every subject possible. He'd enjoyed the company more than he'd expected, and the women's happy and non-military company had soothed something inside him.

Then Massa's call had come in this morning.

Oneakka had toyed with the idea of not getting involved – Massa and Maja were in charge in the Facility and he didn't need to get involved.

Except he felt a strong compulsion to see the recording of the fight, to see how Seeal had behaved, to comfort himself that he had been right that she was trustworthy. Massa had finally reported that she'd behaved herself impeccably while working in the Facility – which Oneakka found slightly suspect. She was not usually a woman who kept her head down and stayed quiet.

Except that was what she had done on Dreamstation; she had kept the peace, but buried her head in the dirt away from the reality of what the visitors on Dreamstation were doing.

That he had found some common ground between Dreamstation and the Training Facility had annoyed him. He would defend the Elite and their Recruits always, but that she had been attacked on what should have been safe territory for her...

It angered him from a deep place inside.

Massa had reported that she hadn't started the fight, in fact, as she always did in Oneakka's experience, she had warned her attackers off first. However, the woman seemed destined to find trouble everywhere she went.

Part of him wanted to just let that fact exist, while another, worryingly loud part of him, wanted to go and find the Recruits responsible and have a little 'talk' with them himself.

He wouldn't do that though, because a part of him worried that he wouldn't stay in control if he did. The woman had gotten under his skin, and that was dangerous. For example right now as he walked through the clean hallways of the Facility, he was acutely aware that Seeal was in the same base. She could appear around any corner at any moment, and a stupid part of him kept nervously clocking any female with dark hair that came into view, even if only in his peripheral vision. Each female caused a sharp adrenaline based reaction inside him, and as each one turned out not to be her there was a strange relieved disappointment that followed.

This was exactly why he had been keeping his distance from her. It shouldn't matter to him, and especially not to his nervous system, whether one particular female was in the same base as him.

He was an Elite.

Except, Pampata had been right about one particular fact: He didn't run away from anything.

He'd realised this morning that it wasn't Seeal he was avoiding, not really, it was his own reactions and lack of control that bothered him.

So, here he was, facing the reactions and heading towards the Security central hub within the Facility. He would check in with Maja, watch the recording of the fight and make sure that Seeal was innocent in the fight and unharmed from it.

Then he would focus back on his own work. Robiah had been sending him the latest research results from the Toshka and Dreamstation databases, but it was clear that the Division agents and investigators had hit something of a few dead ends. Robiah had requested to contact Seeal for possible information that could help, but Oneakka had not agreed. If Robiah asked Seeal for help, she might be uncooperative, and since she'd been attacked in the Facility, she might not feel as helpful towards the Elite as before. No, if someone was to ask her for intell help, it should come from him.

Whether that would be in person or via link, or a simple written message, he hadn't decided.

He'd watch the recording first and decide after that.

The central hub of the Facility came into view ahead of Oneakka, and so far 'she' hadn't appeared in a corridor.

Oneakka kept his eyes forward as he strode towards the guarded twin set of double doors into the security centre of the Facility. The guards all recognised him and had the doors open for him as he arrived so he didn't have to break stride as he entered.

Although the Facility was a secure location, the actual security headquarters of the Elite was kept as a separate area within the Facility, with completely independent power supplies and computer servers. No Recruits were ever allowed in here; only Elite and high level Facility workers and security staff moved through these doors. The security staff used here were often retired Elite.

As the security doors slid shut behind Oneakka, he felt himself relax a little – she wouldn't be in here.

The lighting was low in the initial corridors as a security measure, but as he passed through another internal door, the corridor beyond was brightly lit. As he stepped into the light a shape to his right drew his immediate attention.

Massa was lent against the opposite wall, young Aki fast asleep in a harness on his front, and an uncomfortably amused smile across the man's face.

"That was quick," Massa smiled.

Oneakka schooled his expression carefully. "You contacted me two hours ago, that is hardly quick."

Massa pushed off the wall gently, Aki's little arms and legs shifting with the movement, the babe completely relaxed in deep sleep.

"He's growing fast," Oneakka noted.

"Babies do that," Massa replied. "He'd love to see you; you staying here after this?"

Oneakka narrowed his eyes at his friend, hearing all sorts of curious tones in the question. "Maybe," was all he gave. "Let's get to it," he stated and turned to lead the way towards the Security Lead offices.

"No time for small talk, I understand," Massa remarked as he followed, falling into step at Oneakka's side, Aki' little limbs bouncing with the man's steps. "You had a good time at Mil Hub?"

Oneakka nodded, keeping his mouth shut.

"You usually stay here when the Sythus is in dock," Massa asked indirectly, that curious probing tone getting annoying. It was because he'd lost the stubborn stalemate they'd had regarding information about Seeal.

"I'm here now," Oneakka replied simply.

"Yes," Massa agreed with a weight that implied he was annoyingly reading too much into that.

"How are the Recruits behaving since the attack?" Oneakka asked. "Any retaliations?"

"No, all of them have been keeping well clear of Seeal now. She's changed her habits in the last day too."

"How?" Oneakka asked.

"Before she had a very fixed routine and only worked out in the gyms once a day for a half hour at a time," Massa reported as they turned into the corridor that led towards Edfu and Maja's offices.

"That's not like her," Oneakka remarked.

"No, in the day now since the attack she's worked out twice in the gyms, pushing herself far more and she isn't so fixed in her routes through the Facility."

Oneakka understood immediately. "She was baiting them," he concluded as they turned into Maja's open office door.

"Yes, she was," Maja replied to his comment as she turned in her chair. Her dark desk across the office, the desk surface outlined with highly organised stacks of electronic pads. Behind the desk, a wall of screens and monitors glowed with motion.

As he entered, Oneakka quickly scanned over the screens, most of them security feeds from various parts of the Facility, but the central largest screen held a fixed image of an empty corridor. It might be the recording of the fight that he was here to see.

But, for now he settled his attention on Maja sat behind her desk.

"Honoured Elite," she greeted him and Massa.

"Maja," Oneakka greeted her in turn. He respected the woman; she did a very good job and she spoke her mind without the soft excessive smiles of Edfu.

"It was clear from the start that the woman was establishing very clear routines and routes," Maja stated. "The gym supervisors report that her workouts have significantly advanced in skill and stamina."

"Half hour workouts were a fake," Oneakka concluded the obvious fact, his eyes returning to the security feeds and then the frozen image on display behind Maja. No one was visible on the screen yet.

He realised he was anxious to see Seeal on the recording.

"She's continued to work well as part of the Research project," Massa put in as he crossed towards an empty chair and sat down with a soft out breath that sounded tired to Oneakka's ears. He glanced at his friend and watched as Massa stroked a hand over Aki' sleeping head, soothing the boy at all the movement.

"Research scientists are not the same as warriors," Maja pointed out. "And that woman is clearly a warrior."

Oneakka suppressed the repetitive urge to defend Seeal out loud to the two. Maja was doing her job to watch out for the Facility, the Elite, and the Recruits. Seeal was still an unknown quantity and her change in behaviour would worry Maja.

"She has an interesting fight style," Massa replied, not rising to Maja's distrusting comments either. "Unusual combination of different techniques and a very new take on transverse body use and some good old dirty fighting."

Oneakka nodded. "She was a pit fighter and grew up on dangerous streets," he reminded them.

"It shows," Massa replied. "She doesn't trust others, doesn't relax, and certainly doesn't socialise."

"Hardly surprising," Maja added in.

"Maja still feels that Seeal may be here as part of some elaborate plot to infiltrate the Elite," Massa reported unnecessarily.

Oneakka understood the concern, and had even shared it for awhile, but not anymore. "She's not a threat," he stated. "She's had more than enough opportunities to sell what she already knows and has seen."

"With all due respect, Honoured Elite," Maja said gruffly, "this is my Facility to watch over and it is the most secure and sought after location in this entire galaxy. Except perhaps for the City of the Ancestors," she added. "She may be waiting to gather more intell, or even attack us from within."

"She's not a threat," Oneakka repeated, working to keep his temper that was annoyingly all too ready to break free. Maja was doing her job and she was damn good at it. She was highly intelligent, had a grim determination and was highly suspicious of anything and everything; which made her perfect for her role.

The woman's eyes studied him intently and frankly. "How can you be so sure?" She asked.

Oneakka held her stubborn gaze. "I've seen her in battle. She fights on the right side."

Maja kept her assessing stare going. "She's a woman who has been defending herself all her life, which means that even if she's not our enemy today, tomorrow she might be if it is in her best interests. She will always look out for herself first, and if we come second to that, then she'll turn on us, just like she did with Dreamstation."

"She's consistently refused to give intell on Creass himself, being loyal to the scum for the good he did for her in the past, at least in her mind," Oneakka reminded Maja. "And she knows Dreamstation was a mistake. She's making up for that mistake by helping us."

"And if she decides helping us has been a mistake?" Maja pushed.

Maja was paid to ask these questions, to push and defend the Facility at all costs. Any other day, Oneakka would support her in anything she said, but today he had to remind himself repeatedly that she was right to ask these questions. That she was right to question Seeal's loyalty.

He just reacted poorly to it.

"She has had several opportunities to leave and sell her information elsewhere, but she hasn't," he pointed out logically. "She has saved lives, including Elite."

Maja glanced away to Massa and back, her mind clearly working hard.

"Emmagan and Nalla agree that she is not a threat," he added.

Maja took a breath, some of the tension easing from her. "Honoured Elite Nalla is not infallible, as Iketani and others have now proven."

"Has Madesh assessed her?" Massa asked.

"Yes," Oneakka replied. "He trusts her; in fact they formed a friendship of sorts on the Sythus."

"Makes sense, I suppose," Massa considered. "They have a lot more in common with each other than they do with those around them."

Maja leant back in her chair, the backrest easing back with her. "You trust her, Honoured Elite?" She asked Oneakka directly.

"She was willing to give her life to save all those on the Sythus," he reminded Maja, knowing the woman would have read all the reports. "She killed a Queen to save Halling and me."

Maja turned her seat round towards the bank of screens and monitors. "Well, it's true enough that she certainly pulled her punches with the Recruit band." She reached forward and triggered the paused central image and it began to run.

Finally, the recording of the fight.

Oneakka moved forward a step and crossed his arms as he watched the rolling image of a section of the outlying corridor of the Facility. It was one of the wider sections that looked out on the barren view of the landscape outside.

From the left lower corner of the screen, Seeal moved into view.

The image was slightly grainy on the monitor, but her face and dark hair was clear to see.

She looked good and seeing her, even through a recording, satisfied something inside that had been waiting unhappily these last weeks.

However, there was something wrong with her body language; she was walking with her shoulders just slightly folded forward, her steps slower as if she were injured or exhausted. As he watched her walk over to the windows of the corridor, seemingly looking out at the view and taking a break, he ran his eyes over her. She might have only been doing only half hour workouts in the gym, but he was almost certain that her shoulders supported more muscle than two weeks ago. Had she been focusing on upper body strength during her reduced workouts?

A sense of unexpected pride glowed up in the centre of his chest.

She looked tired and lonely in the image, but she was just baiting in her attackers, waiting for them.

That her back was to the corridor behind her itched at his nerves though; waiting out an attacker was one thing, but keeping your back to the approach wasn't wise.

Except, she had the full reflections of the windows she was standing in front of watch for their approach.

Pride glowed again, and he tried to squash it down.

He saw her faintly shift her stance; she'd heard them approach. She was holding her towel around her neck, her hands appearing full and in full view.

The Recruits abruptly burst into the view, spreading out to block Seeal in. The volume was shut off as he told Maja he wasn't interested in hearing what was said – he didn't want to know the details. He just wanted to see the body language, the behaviour, and see whether Seeal had acquitted herself properly, as he suspected...no, hoped...she had.

Seeal looked over her shoulder in the image, that expression of bored indifference so familiar to him. She was barely reacting to the Recruits, not even turning to stand off against them.

It was obvious that she was being very careful.

The pride grew again.

Words were being exchanged now, she turned to face them, and Oneakka locked his eyes on her face. Her eyes were moving, judging each and every member of the Recruit attackers. A couple of the smarter Recruits broke away from the back and disappeared out of view. Seeal smiled faintly at that and her mouth was working overtime now. Her stance was subtly changing too, she was preparing.

The Recruit leader, a man who Oneakka had burned into his brain, stepped forward, aggressive and about to light the spark of the fight.

Seeal faced the man, but her attention was shifting off him as if bored...any minute now.

The Recruit leader threw his first and only punch.

Oneakka felt his body tighten as the fight exploded, his eyes fixed to the action.

To say that she worked her way through them like she was cutting grain would have been an understatement. They didn't make it overly easy for her, but her speed and unpredictable unusual fighting style had thrown the Recruits completely. She had also used them against each other, literally smacking one head against another at one point in the fight. She was a flowing battling creature, climbing one man, kicking another, wrapping her arm around another throat and a few elbows strikes and bruised testicles later, she had worked her way to the back of the group, back to the corridor.

Except the last man standing drew out a knife, the corridor light shimmering on the small blade.

She didn't warn the young Recruit, she'd already done that, instead she dealt with the weapon brutally fast and the arm break had been clean and sharp.

The boy curled up on the floor clutching his arm, and she stepped back and away from the groaning pile of Recruits while the Facility's security teams appeared into view.

Maja stopped the recording and turned her chair back round towards Oneakka. "Do I want this woman in my Facility?" She asked.

Annoyed anger rushed up Oneakka's throat now. Seeal had been the one attacked and had clearly, very clearly, not instigated the fight. To his judgement, she had worked to avoid the incident, though admittedly he hadn't heard the exchanged words. Massa said she had warned the Recruits and that was enough for Oneakka.

The urge to watch it through again was strong, but at the same time he felt abruptly ashamed about the recording and this conversation. She should have been safe here, but instead she had been targeted and attacked. If she had not been able to defend herself so well, what would have happened?

"You _have_ this woman in your Facility," Oneakka told Maja hotly. "She works for the Elite and it is your responsibility to protect the Facility and _all_ who work here."

Maja blinked and glanced away to Massa for a split second.

"But you wanted to test her," Oneakka accused her.

"The plan was mine," Massa replied instead. "The Recruits reacted badly to her presence and Seeal didn't report anything to us, so we had to wait."

"Or you could have addressed it directly," Oneakka pointed out.

"It wasn't clear how many of the Recruits might escalate matters and whether they would," Massa replied. "It was _their_ decision to fight her and _her_ decision not to tell anyone."

"It is not their place to questions us and who we employ," Oneakka replied.

"They're Elite Recruits, Oneakka," Massa responded. "It is in the Elite nature to disobey what is imposed on us, to fight that which we are afraid of and bring justice against our enemy. The Recruits saw injustice in her being here, wrongly, I agree, but they did what we have taught them to do: Fight."

"Not stupidly," Oneakka disagreed.

"Such as storming off alone as a young Recruit to face an entire Hive base on his murdered homeworld?" Massa asked with a bluntness that cut.

Oneakka paused at the point. He had done that. He'd run to Ugun alone and burning with violent vengeance in his heart. In many eyes it had been stupid, and that he had survived it had been a miracle. Some nights he wondered if he had.

He blinked away the rush of memories, seeing the faint trace of pity in Massa's face.

"We do not corner a woman thirteen to one," Oneakka insisted. "We fight Wraith not people."

"Fights happen here all the time between Recruits," Massa argued, accurately so. "You were in plenty yourself against other Recruits during your training. You even challenged a few Elite if you remember."

"I remember," Oneakka snapped back.

"Tempers can run high here," Maja put in from her seat. "We put in a secondary camera feed in case something happened and it did. We let it play out in the corridor because it was clear that my security teams were too late to get involved. Best that the Recruits learn the truth of facing someone like Seeal. For it seems that the Elite future may involve dealing with humans as much as Wraith."

"It shouldn't," Oneakka protested.

"Says the man who broke into Esna Toshka's home and stole his computer core," Massa added unhelpfully. "And that nice little extraction of Zau out of Sula's Portal City last week."

Oneakka glared at him, but his and Maja's points were valid enough.

When had being an Elite warrior become so complicated? Or had it always been that way, but he was only just really noticing? He'd spent most of his career with deadly focus on fighting the Wraith. He'd barely lifted his head from that purpose until The Traitor had betrayed all they stood for, and her actions had damaged his friend Massa so greatly. Oneakka had worked hard to discover all the poison The Traitor had infected into the Alliance and even the Elite, and that had brought Seeal into his life. The arrival of the Dreamstation database had changed so much, and now with Toshka's database of blackmailing material there was enough evidence to keep that work going. Oneakka's sole mission was now taken on by everyone else, and even the Recruits had decided to invoke justice of their own.

Maybe Teyla was right that the Elite would end up becoming defenders of the Alliance inwardly as much as externally. She had already pushed the Military Council to include the Elite in planetary security throughout the Alliance, but would it have to go further? The Elite were not Enforcement, but a threat to the Alliance was still a threat that had to be dealt with. Freedom had to be protected inside the Alliance as much as it had to be defended from the Wraith. The face of the enemy had become more complicated it seemed.

To the Recruits, Seeal was seen as the enemy, as she had been to Oneakka not all that long ago.

"Elite don't attack people," Oneakka stated. "We might capture some to be judged, but we don't behave like that," he pointed to the monitor that had displayed the Recruits' disgraceful behaviour.

"I agree," Massa nodded. "And they have been punished and we will watch them very carefully. I have already run the first of several training sessions with the rest of the Recruits on the subject."

Good.

"Do you want to run a seminar?" Massa asked.

Oneakka frowned at him. "Me?"

"Why not?" Massa asked. "Or turn up unexpectedly in one, I know you enjoy taking the Recruits by surprise."

"I'm not a teacher, I test them," Oneakka clarified.

"You teach through your actions, Oneakka," Massa replied though.

That was true enough, so now he was in the Facility with all eyes were on him, then he would make sure they saw the truth.

He nodded to Maja and turned and left the office quickly, his decision made.

He'd stayed away from Seeal these weeks for his own personal reasons, but he wouldn't stand for her to be isolated here. If the Recruits watched him, then they'd see him working alongside Seeal to weed out the cruel and deceitful in the Alliance, and he wasn't going to hide away anymore.

It was time to find her and face the stupidity of his own.

He became aware of Massa following him, but Oneakka waited until he exited the security hub and re-entered the main corridors of the Facility until he slowed for Massa to catch up with him.

Unlike before, as Oneakka looked around at the passing people, he no longer worried about seeing Seeal, but now hoped to spot her; Let the Recruits see him talking with her – he'd make it clear that past mistakes could be undone and that the Elite's judgement was to be trusted.

Massa slid into step with Oneakka as they strode away from the security hub.

"Are you angry with her?" Massa asked, Aki still fast asleep against his chest.

"Maja is doing her job, and doing it well," Oneakka dismissed the question. Maja was right to worry about Seeal's skill – the fight had proven that spectacularly enough.

"I meant Seeal," Massa corrected.

Oneakka glanced at Massa. "Why would I be angry with her?"

Massa shrugged. "You seem angry," he replied.

He did? Oneakka realised he was striding quickly forward and, with an effort, he relaxed his forehead from the angry frown it had presumably been locked into.

"But then you've been angry for awhile now," Massa added.

"Aren't you?" Oneakka challenged his friend. "After The Traitor? After our own betrayed us and took Mera away from you?"

Massa's eyes lowered at the mention of Mera's name and Oneakka instantly regretted his words and he forced himself to slow his steps. "When did being an Elite become so complicated?" He sighed.

"I do not know, my friend," Massa replied. "Or perhaps it has always been that way, but we were too young to see it before now. Iketani certainly changed a great deal."

Oneakka nodded, that weary sensation returning from a few days ago. "We never had traitors before."

Massa was the one to sigh now. "That we know of," he considered.

Oneakka glared at him.

"Maybe you should change careers," Massa suggested with a half smile.

"Change careers?" Oneakka asked, thrown slightly by the change in the conversation as much as the crazy suggestion.

"Why not?" Massa grinned. "You could become a farmer."

Oneakka saw what Massa was doing – trying to make him feel better with joking comments. "I'm no farmer," he dismissed with a snort.

"How about an engineer?" Massa suggested. "You're always tinkering with tech."

Oneakka shook his head, a slight smile breaking through his former gloom.

"Maybe you could settle down with a nice woman," Massa continued with his teasing. "Maybe with a dark-haired troublemaker who beats up Recruits, just like you like to do in training."

Oneakka stopped in the corridor and finally turned to face Massa and his misunderstanding directly.

Massa was grinning widely, clearly pleased with the reaction he had gotten.

Oneakka took a calming breath. "I don't know where you have gotten the idea that there is anything between Seeal and I, but there isn't," Oneakka stated clearly, keeping his tone calm and level.

Massa nodded. "Okay," he replied. Except, the word was right, but the man's tone and the smile said just the opposite.

"Massa," Oneakka warned him. "I'm serious."

"I can see that you are," Massa replied, but that annoying smile remained.

"There is nothing happening between us," Oneakka reiterated.

"Okay," Massa repeated his comment, but again the word didn't match the expression.

"There _isn't_ ," Oneakka stressed again, his temper rising a little now. Nothing was going to happen between him and Seeal, so it was best that Massa understand that fact. As should that niggling part inside his own chest that was just a little too excited that he now had an 'excuse' to go and find Seeal.

"Nothing has happened or is going to happen," Oneakka stated clearly for the universe and his own chest to hear.

"Okay," Massa repeated.

"I'm an Elite," Oneakka insisted unnecessarily.

"So am I," Massa agreed, again unnecessarily. "And a father now too," he indicated the still sleeping Aki.

"I'm not you," Oneakka replied. "I'm not going to have children, and I'm not going to live happily ever after as a married farmer somewhere. I'm an Elite and if I live to see next year, it's a bonus."

"All the more reason to enjoy what you're doing now," Massa replied.

Oneakka frowned at that logic, which whispered tempting thoughts to that place deep inside his chest.

"But if nothing is happening with Seeal, that's fine," Massa continued, as if he were talking to young Recruit. "But if anything were to happen-"

"It's not going to happen," Oneakka insisted. Why did no one believe him?! First Teyla, Nalla, and Pampata, and he was almost certain that Madesh thought something might be going on too.

Just because there was some attraction didn't mean anything was going to happen. Neither he nor Seeal wanted that, so everyone needed to back off about it, even his closest friends.

"But, if anything were to happen," Massa restarted his comment, "then no one would judge you badly."

"There would be no reason to judge us," Oneakka replied, "because nothing _has_ or _will_ happen," he insisted clearly and concisely. He realised at the end of his sentence that he had started gesturing emphatically with both of his hands with each word.

Massa looked up from the waving hands, that teasing look still there, clearly not convinced. "Okay," he repeated yet again with that infuriating grin.

Oneakka growled loudly at him and stormed away.

Fortunately Massa was smart enough not to follow him this time, but the man was still laughing evilly as Oneakka turned down a corridor out of view.

What was wrong with everyone?

If they weren't assuming Seeal was a spy the others assumed she was sleeping in Oneakka's bed! Why couldn't people keep their opinions to themselves? Well, he didn't care what people thought, and they would all see clearly what the reality was: Seeal was to be trusted and they were just friends.

He pulled up short and quickly turned around, turning back to the wall computer terminal he'd just passed. The quick change of mind and direction had forced a Recruit to quickly dodge around him to save herself ploughing into him. He was rather impressed with the speed of the woman's reflexes and footwork, but ignored her rather unwarranted apologies.

"Good reflexes," he told her idly as he reached the terminal. He didn't care what her reaction might be to the comment, he just focused on tapping in his request.

The time had finally arrived – he had every reason now and he wasn't going to run away anymore. There wasn't any need to anyway – she was just a woman and she had done more than enough to prove herself. He'd make sure everyone saw that because he would work with her openly in view of everyone and she'd continue to help with the research that Robiah needed. Oneakka was almost certain that she'd help if he asked her.

So, with plenty of reasons, he requested her current location from the central database.

The warm anticipation in his chest glowed alight again as the answer appeared on the little screen.

No more running away.

He'd show them all and himself. There was nothing that he couldn't handle.

00000

 _Atlantis_

John felt nervous, which was crazy. It wasn't like he was going anywhere new or meeting anyone new from Teyla's family, but today still felt big.

He contemplated his uniform in the mirror again. There had been an overly long debate last night among the new IOA team and Colonel Carter as to whether he should wear his Blues to this official 'family meal' with Teyla's family. Fortunately, they had decided not to impose that extra stress on him. Not that he hadn't worn his Blues to Athos before. None of this was new really, but at the same it felt huge.

He contemplated his reflection, hit by the fact that he had done this every damn time he'd gone to Tjaru.

He wanted to look smart, which was something that didn't really come all that naturally to him. He could be presentable, he was used to that in a military life, but he preferred the more relaxed end of the presentable spectrum. However, sitting down all officially with all of Teyla's family...it felt big.

It wasn't that he hadn't met Teyla's Dad a hundred times by now, and he'd sat and eaten with Torren, Zabetha, and even Teyla's Uncle, Elkaska, before now. There was nothing new really...except the fact that he and Teyla were married.

It was a Political Marriage though, so that meant...what?

He couldn't ignore the fact that all her family probably knew that he and Teyla weren't just friends in a political contract. They had probably known for awhile. That felt somewhat embarrassing, and along with it being a huge deal in relation to the contract, it felt like a big political and personal weight was on him for this meal.

Which brought him back to Teyla herself – he was feeling nervous about seeing her again. Again that was stupid, but it was nonetheless true.

He always felt that excited anticipation before seeing her, like he was a teenager again. But, it was so much more now, and there was still so much unknown about how things were between them now.

All the politics and the importance of the contract had been weighing on him more and more, and the meetings yesterday with the IOA lot hadn't helped really. It had all left a worried heaviness that made him start to ask the worst question possible: would be best not to restart things with Teyla?

All those things the IOA lot had talked about – trade, weapons, ships, Elite training, Athosian history, and Athosian links in the High Council – he'd not really known how to answer them. He'd told the IOA everything he knew, but the truth was that he'd spent his time alone with Teyla exploring her rather than her people and the Elite. He couldn't put that in his report. He was lucky he hadn't been fired for signing Atlantis and the Earth into a contract without permission.

"Never fall in love with the warrior princess," he muttered out loud. "They never put that in the training manual."

What would happen if he and Teyla started everything up again? Would he get fired for that? Did it matter now they were married?

He and Teyla had meant things to be fun and short lived, not turn into this...political, life changing and confusing situation. There was so much involved now, so much hanging on this contract, what if he mucked it up?

What if he and Teyla argued again? Would that risk the contract? What if his superiors found out and he was sent back to Earth? No, that couldn't happen because he and Teyla had to spend their contracted hours together. But, if she were in Atlantis, it didn't mean all that time would be spent with him. Could the Colonels deny him contact with her if they thought something was going on?

He had toyed with talking to Colonel Carter about it, because she had hinted that she suspected something. She would probably be understanding, he hoped, but at the same time she was his superior and had to do her job.

And he should be doing his job – looking out for Atlantis and Earth's interests, not his own.

Things had gotten way too complicated.

His room chimes rang out, cutting that resigned thought short and it was a grateful distraction. As he headed for the door, he checked his watch; he was scheduled to leave for Athos in twenty minutes and change, and had to be up in the Gate Room in ten minutes.

Praying it wasn't General O'Neill here to tell him off again, he waved his hand over the door's crystals.

The doors opened to reveal Professor Morgan from the IOA's team.

"Professor Morgan?" John asked, his surprise probably damn obvious.

"Major Sheppard," the tweed jacketed man replied. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes free before you leave for Athos."

John opened his mouth, not really sure how to answer that honestly. He checked his watch again. "I've got to be up in the Gate Room in just under ten minutes," he reported.

"That should be plenty of time," Morgan replied with that polite but insistent tone he'd used a lot in the meetings yesterday.

General O'Neill had made it clear yesterday that John was to "play nice" with the IOA lot, and John had agreed as long as he could make as many 'The Professor' X-Men jokes as he wanted. The General hadn't agreed, but he'd smiled about it, which had been a win in John's book.

"I won't take up much of your time, Major," Morgan insisted again.

"Sure," John acquiesced, remembering the promise to the General. "Come in," he stood aside to let the shorter man in.

The Professor wandered in, glancing around with what seemed like honest interest. John looked around as well to check he hadn't left any dirty laundry lying around or anything.

"I had hoped to speak with you alone, off the record," Morgan said as he turned in the centre of the room.

The doors shut behind him, John moved forward suspiciously. "Off the record?"

Morgan faced him, hands clasped behind his back. "Yes, by which I mean without military eyes and ears."

John wasn't sure what the hell that meant – he was military.

"To speak with you without any superiors around," Morgan explained further.

"Oh," John answered, though still no clearer about what this was about.

"I was hoping we could talk," Morgan began as he moved towards the lone chair in the room. Today it wasn't coated in clothes because John had tidied up last night in an effort to do something other than lie in his bed not sleeping all night.

"Talk about the Elite," Morgan added as he sat down.

"Okay," John agreed as he crossed the room and sat down on the edge of his bed, more or less opposite the Professor.

Morgan was silent, but his eyes were moving, assessing John. John worked not to squirm under the intense study.

"You've spent considerable time with them," Morgan began. "Fought alongside them, even helped them track down one of their own who turned against them." John nodded along. "Why do you trust them?"

"They've proven themselves to us," John began, as this was hardly a new question.

"No," Morgan interrupted him though. "Why do _you_ trust them? What is it about them that makes you so willing to join them in a space battle with only one person to back you up if difficulties should arise. I'm interested in why?"

John glanced away, feeling pressured. "They are making a real difference against the Wraith," he started. "They're good people, fighting the good fight."

Morgan nodded thoughtfully. John wondered if that was enough.

"And Elite Emmagan," Morgan asked next, "why do you trust _her_?"

Had there been something in his voice? An extra intensity in his watching sharp gaze?

"We've been through a lot together," John replied immediately.

Morgan nodded, but that sharp eyed gaze held fixed on John. "It was an interesting decision of yours, offering for the Political Marriage."

It was starting to feel warmer in here than usual. "I had to stop the Genii getting their foot in the door with the Elite and with Athos."

Morgan nodded. "I've read all the reports and I agree with your assessment, especially considering the threats on your own life by the Genii ex-commander, Kolya. I can also understand why Emmagan, your new wife, decided to select you and with you Atlantis for the contract. I can also understand why you had not previously discussed such an offer with your superiors, having only decided spontaneously in the moment that it would be best for Atlantis."

It was all sounding good, but John held still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Morgan didn't add anything else, but those intense eyes continued to watch him.

John waited, deciding to take a cue from the Elite playbook; Si and Oneakka both used the silent waiting thing to good advantage.

"It is quite a commitment to your cause," Morgan replied after a beat, the waiting thing having worked. "Marrying an alien warrior to make sure they help us battle the Wraith and to hold back any possible threat from the Genii."

"It's _just_ a Political Marriage," John replied, not liking the words though. Teyla had said those words herself, so it wasn't a betrayal of anything between them. Not that there was anything still certain between them...

"Is it?" Morgan asked.

"What?" John asked back, fear making him momentarily nauseous.

"A simple Political Marriage?" Morgan asked. "I've read through the Marriage Contract in depth and it may not be a marriage forged around such feelings as love and trust, but it is more far reaching and significant. You have tied yourself to Pegasus and us with you, for honestly right reasons, but it is no small matter. You will be spending a large part of your life now in the Alliance's territory, alongside this Emmagan warrior. It seems quite a sacrifice."

John glanced away, checking the time on his alarm clock. How had only a few minutes passed? "I don't see it that way."

"No, clearly," Morgan replied. "Most would not even consider it, but you did, and you jumped straight in with the idea. I understand from your file that such split decisions are not rare for you, and in fact necessary for you work, but it was a very life changing decision."

"I stand by the decision," John stated.

Morgan nodded. "And it was a decision that had many in the halls of power arguing for days back home. Some of them thought you should be fired, court marshalled even, while others want you promoted."

"Promoted?" John asked surprised.

"You've turned yourself into a powerful political resource," Morgan replied. "Guaranteed yourself a place at any meeting table regarding the situation with Pegasus and the Alliance. Maybe even a direct ear to the President and other world leaders."

John swore his mouth hung open for a second. "I'm just a pilot. I'll leave the big political decisions to your people, Professor."

Morgan's eyes did that intense study thing again. "I think perhaps you do believe that, Major. General O'Neill said as much, but I was not sure."

John was getting fed up with this. "Look, I've seen what it's like out there in Pegasus first hand. There are millions, billions perhaps, of humans living under the threat of the Wraith, losing people every day. And god forbid if the Wraith find their way to the Milky Way. But, I've seen what the Alliance can do, and, believe me, they have the kind of fire power that can make a real difference. If it takes me signing a contract and doing my part, then I'm happy to do it, and I know Teyla, Mistress Emmagan," he corrected, "believes the same."

Morgan nodded. "I do applaud your ideals, Major, and I support them. The IOA believes the same as you, but I think you need to start to understand your new position in all of this."

John frowned at that, glancing anxiously towards the alarm clock again; it was almost time to use the excuse to head up to the Gate Room. "I'm just a pilot, Professor," he insisted. "I'm more than happy to play go-between with Athos and the Elite, but the political decisions are up to you and your team, not me."

"I think you underestimate your position, Major," Morgan replied, but his tone was almost kind now. "You are not 'just a pilot' anymore. Your name is going to be known across this galaxy and written into the history books back home."

John was starting to sweat now. "Everyone who works here is doing important work," he insisted.

"Of course," Morgan agreed, "but in terms of your own career, you can't really have done better for yourself."

John frowned at that. He'd almost gotten himself court marshalled – how was that good for his career? Sure he'd gotten the contract for Earth, but his part was just playing the role of a political husband now...of course, he had no real idea what that exactly entailed. He'd have to make sure to ask Teyla later.

He glanced at the alarm clock again – it was time enough to head up to the Gate Room.

The Professor must have seen the glance at the clock as he stood up. "I shall walk you up to the Gate Room, if I may, and see you off to meet your new In-Laws."

John stood up, trying to hide his nervous look. "Sure."

"But, if I were you, I would expect a promotion soon, Major. Maybe even a new position outside of a Gate team."

"I'm not due a promotion," John found himself excusing the idea.

Morgan chuckled at that though. "Really? After your speech on the importance of bringing the Alliance and Earth together to battle the Wraith, you don't see how important you are? You just managed to bring the Alliance and Earth together all by yourself."

John blinked. "Elite Emmagan was part of it too," he added weakly. "It wasn't just me."

"I understand, Major," Morgan replied, again with that funny little smile of his. "This has been a very enlightening conversation, thank you."

"Sure," John replied, feeling rather thrown by the conversation. If the Professor had thought John was in this contract because he wanted some sort of political advance in his career, then the man was way off base. John just wanted what was best for Atlantis and Earth.

And for Teyla.

She would never have been happy as a Genii wife.

Teyla.

That anxious excited feeling rose up again. It was time to head to Athos and see her again.

His wife

0000000  
TBC


	12. The Conquering of Fear

0000000

 **Chapter 12 – The Conquering of Fear**

 _Elite Training Facility_

The challenge waited before her, hanging from the great height of the gym's ceiling high above Seeal.

She'd been practising, working gradually higher each time, especially now she no longer needed to hold back in her workouts. Now she wasn't watching her back all the time and playing a waiting game.

Instead it was the climbing rope before that was waiting for her.

Waiting for her to just climb the damn thing, right to the very top. It was the longest rope in the Facility's many gyms, and was probably about the same height as a ten storey building. It was the kind of height that meant that if you let go you could break something really vital – like your back or head. There was a massive crash mat on the far side of the rope, which would break a fall even from the full height, but only if you managed to fall onto it. There was plenty of space to miss it.

Design flaw.

Or maybe a way of weeding out the Recruits who couldn't fall in right direction.

For the Elite, the approach to safety seemed to be the same as survival of the fittest.

She considered the full height of the rope before her, having to tilt her head right back to see up its full length. It was so long that the air currents in the big gym stirred its long length. Maybe there was even some snow up at the top.

She smiled painfully at her obvious delaying tactics – not that anyone was paying her any attention. The afternoon shift had just started, so most were hard at work or in class, but she'd started her daily work hours earlier today and had earmarked her workout this afternoon to finally reaching the top of the rope.

No more cowardice.

She was no stranger to climbing. On her homeworld she'd spent most of her youngest years playing alone in the forest around the Glisi camp, to keep away from the insults and curses thrown at her. Her playmates had been the ravens and the small digging shrews that had bounced around the snow layered feet of the tall dark trees of the Glisi forest. She'd gotten good at climbing those trees, both to entertain herself, but also to keep up out of the horrible cold snow. Plus, playing high up in the tree branches had enabled her to climb higher than even the Glisi stood, helping her to feel better about the constant verbal abuse she'd known since her birth.

Once off the Glisi world, her climbing skills had helped save her backside innumerable number of times. She'd found that climbing up somewhere high, even in the depths of a crowded alien town, could get you out of most situations. Even away from the clutches of the Wraith during cullings. As a child she'd been able to scamper up and into small nooks and crannies up out of the Wraith's view. The Wraith rarely looked up during cullings – probably assumed everything worth having was below them, literally.

As she'd gotten older, hiding in small places hadn't been so easy, but the ability to climb up and over obstacles and move fast across busy urban terrains had served her just as well. She'd even found climbing a useful technique in a fight, because the last thing anyone ever expected was for you to clamber up them while they were trying to attack you.

She hadn't had much to climb during her years on Dreamstation though – not much to climb in the dark tight corridors and corners of scum central. However, the break away from the old skill had not lessened her abilities she'd discovered.

And perhaps had helped her hold on for her life not all that long ago when she'd had an alien killer robot hanging off her leg and only a metal doorframe to cling onto. Perhaps all her many years of climbing had helped give her shoulder and upper body strength enough to have held on. Or perhaps it had been the motivation of not wanting to fall down into the open hole into the vacuum of space outside the Sythus that had been enough.

Except she had fallen.

She had let go of that frame in the knowledge that nothing was going to happen except that she was going to take that damn robot with her and maybe keep the Sythus from being destroyed.

The sensation of that moment in which she had started to freefall replayed enough for her that she knew she was never going to be able to forget that moment.

But then, you probably should remember when you let go of life. It was kind of significant.

She'd never surrendered to anything before, not like that. But, she had. She had let go, on purpose and with a surprising and disturbing sense of relief to it.

And the nightmares of doing so again had been running since.

Looking up at the rope, she had no doubt she could climb it. Training and persistence could achieve almost anything if you put your mind to it, but the height... Before the Sythus, she wouldn't have even thought about it, but now the height seemed...worrying.

As did the possibility of falling from such a height.

But, that wasn't acceptable. She wasn't going to let some new raw fear dominate her life. She'd enjoyed climbing for most of her life, whether it be trees, buildings, or walls, so she wasn't going to let this stupid lifeless rope win over her.

She wasn't afraid.

Well, maybe she was nervous.

"Staring at the rope isn't going to help," she muttered to herself quietly.

She'd gotten almost two thirds of the way up yesterday evening, so today she would reach the very top.

She would.

Her body was warm and stretched from her workout, but not too worn out to reduce her strength for the climb. Now was the time.

She wasn't going to let this new fear win over her.

The greatest weakness was one's greatest weapon – the mind. She'd been taught that fighting in the pits, and she'd had it proven to her repeatedly over the years.

"Come on," Seeal muttered, "if Elite Recruits can do it." That helped, not that she had much to say to any of the Recruits in the last day since the fight. They'd given her a wide berth; in fact, the closest any of them had been to her were those currently training at the far end of the gym. She glanced over her shoulder in their direction now to see that they were still focused on their tumbles and rolls over varying heights of obstacles.

To the right of the gym, an Elite warrior was working on lifting weights, the gym's supervisor beside the man. Rehabilitation training.

No one was paying her any attention.

When she had let go and fallen on the Sythus, she had had an unexpected audience – Oneakka had sharply halted her chosen freefall, snatching her back from death.

But thinking about that moment wasn't going to help her climb the damn rope any sooner, so she dusted some more chalk on her hands and reached for the rope. It was dry and always strangely warm to the touch.

With one more purposefully deep inhalation, she reached up and hauled her weight up, setting her bare feet around the width of the rope, securing her place and she started her way upwards.

She had the technique; that was not a problem. One hand up, then the other, pull up, secure her feet around the rope and repeat. She set up a steady rhythm, repeating the technique over and over, focusing on the requirements of her body, the stress and strain, and not the growing height.

There was nothing like climbing to work the entire body, and quickly enough she was panting with the exertion, but she was making good speedy progress.

The important thing was not to look down.

Even though she knew all she would see was the gym floor below her, a silly part of her feared she might see that gaping hole in the side of the Sythus again. It was crazy, it was irrational, but that was what fears and traumas could do. Make you afraid when you didn't need to be.

She wasn't going to take that.

Soon enough she was at the two thirds mark from yesterday, and though her shoulders and arms burned, and her breathing was fast and shallow with the work, she kept going.

One hand up, then the other, pull up and secure her feet in place. Over and over again, the rope swinging slightly with her movements, but she was okay.

And then above her, not too far now, the light shone off the large metal hook that secured the rope in place at the gym's ceiling.

She was almost there.

One hand, the other, pull up, feet. One hand up – she touched a thicker part of the rope, the top. One more pull up and she arrived at the hook.

Relief, nervous delight, and adrenaline had her grip happily to the rope and hold still finally.

She'd done it.

Except of course, now there was nothing but air below her and the sensation of being so high without any support was intense.

She breathed through it, reminding herself of the direction of the crash mat if she did let go for some stupid reason again.

No one was going to grab her to safety this time.

She didn't need it anyway, she'd done it.

Getting down was the easier part, but for now she held still, forcing herself to hold tightly onto life and to get used to the disconcerting sense of distance below her again.

No robot was going to materialise and pull her down to her death. She was safe-

A faint disturbance in the rope shifted between her hands and feet, and then the rope began to swing one way. She gripped her entire body around the rope, hanging on for dear life as the rope swung back the other way.

She held on, cursing under her breath.

This wasn't from the gym's air currents - someone was swinging the damn rope!

Just what she needed! If it was one of those Recruits, she was going to damn well kill them!

Forgetting all her fear, she glared down the length of the still swinging rope, looking down the fatal height to see who would dare...

A pale face looked up at her from the gym floor far below, one side of the familiar face darkened with twisting artistically spiralling Elite tattoos.

Oneakka.

One pale hand, still holding the rope, gave it another swing, the wave of motion transferring up the length to swing her in place.

Her shock at seeing him, so abruptly returned into her world, was quickly superseded with annoyance as the rope swung in her grip again.

It would be him wouldn't it! Damn him, you couldn't go round swinging people's ropes without permission.

She looked back down at him and frowned really hard so that he would hopefully see her expression so far below.

She thought she saw a shift to the tattoos around the right side of his face. He was probably smiling at her hanging on for dear life!

She had almost forgotten how damn annoying the man could be.

Well if he could return into her life with such an entrance, then she would make sure to return the favour with some flare as well.

She looked back up to the hook, the rope now settling into the natural pull of gravity without Oneakka's interference. As fearful as she had been in returning to climbing up the rope, going down was never as frightening for her. Probably because she was in control of it, or some other psychological insight. Yesterday she had practiced one particularly efficient way of getting down the rope, albeit a slightly crazy one.

She adjusted her feet around the rope, wrapping one ankle and shin around the rope for a secure hold, testing her will a little, and then she let go.

In a similar manner as she did with back flips, she flipped herself backwards, which on the rope resulted in her dropping to hang upside down. The gym floor was abruptly below her head. She reached down, grabbed the rope below her head tightly and released her feet. Her body fell down and round, her hands on the rope as the pivot point until she was upright again, now metres further down the rope. She secured her feet again, her heart pumping with the acrobatic technique, and repeated it all again.

The gym floor flipped back into view, slightly closer than before, she grabbed the rope and drew her body down again back to upright along the rope. Two more flips should do it.

As she flipped upside down again, she caught a brief glimpse of Oneakka's upturned face. He had stepped back slightly, probably not wanting to be crushed if she fell. She gripped the rope and dropped her body down again to upright, and quickly flipped into the next.

The final flip brought her only a metre or so above Oneakka's head, so she climbed down the last part of the rope normally. When her feet drew level with his head, she gripped the rope between her bare soles, and then lowered the rest of her body into a crouch.

She arrived level with his shoulders, her heart pounding from the descent and rope swinging, but she worked to achieve an air of casualness as she met his eyes.

"Yes?" She asked as if he had simply knocked on her door rather than having rudely swung her rope, risking her life. And as if she hadn't seen him for weeks and hadn't been thinking about him most of that time.

His blue eyes lifted up to the height of the rope above her and then back down to her gaze. She had the smug suspicion that he had been impressed by her somewhat mad descent.

"Keeping busy?" He asked with a tone that implied she might not be.

She glanced at the thick rope in her hands, her shoulders protesting at the position after the climb and descent, but she ignored them. "Somewhat," she shrugged one achy shoulder.

He was as tall and wide as she remembered, his presence like an electric wire. His skin really was as pale as she recalled, the tattoos around his facial scar beautifully black in contrast as they twisted and spiralled over one wide cheekbone. His eyes, so strangely uniform in their bright blue colour, looked out from under brown eyebrows and above an oddly refined nose for such a strong-featured face.

She had kind of hoped that she had exaggerated how handsome he was.

She hadn't.

Damn it.

She had hoped that attraction response before had been from the heightened adrenaline and excitement of the fight against the robots and the victory afterwards. She had expected time and distance to have brought reality back online.

Instead, it appeared that by being away from him, his sudden arrival only slammed his big strong muscular presence back into her life without any warning or defence.

No one could ignore this man; there was something about him, something that drew you to him. She'd overheard stories about him while she had been in the canteens these last weeks. The Recruits feared him, but whispered tales about him with something lose to reverence.

Before she had met him, she would have assumed any mad sounding stories about him were, at best, exaggerated and, at the least, misunderstood.

Now, however, she believed Oneakka could achieve anything he set his mind to. She'd personally seen him storm into heavily armoured strongholds and literally bring a building down to rubble to get to someone who he wanted to 'speak with'. She had even been on the receiving end of his hunting skills herself before she had made her deal for freedom with him and the other Elite.

The Recruits were right to be afraid of him, and who knew what he asked of them when he was in charge of a training session.

She glanced away from him now and looked across to the far side of the gym where the Recruits had been training before, steadfastly ignoring her. They weren't ignoring her anymore. They were all stood watching.

She could see the delight in their expressions. They thought they were going to watch Oneakka kick her out after the...

She looked back at Oneakka with new realisation. "I assume you're here because of the little 'incident'?"

And there she had been stupidly thinking he had come to see her because he wanted to see her.

"I've just come from Maja's office," Oneakka reported, confirming the truth.

Seeal wished she didn't feel disappointed, but another thought suddenly hit her.

"Are you here to fire me?"

Oneakka shifted his position, and she realised that he had still been holding onto the rope just below her feet. He now crossed his arms over his light brown armoured chest. "Maja would have thrown you out the second after the " _incident_ " if that were the case."

Relief was another quick sudden emotion. When had she become so emotional over things?

Wow, her arms were really hurting now, but she held her place, rather liking being in such a high position next to him.

"So, you're here to tell me off for not behaving myself like I promised you," she concluded. She'd worked so hard not to betray that promise, but it hadn't been her choice in the end.

"I've just seen the recording of the fight," he replied.

When had his opinion of her become so damn important to her?

"And?" She demanded, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. She'd not let him blame her though – those damn Recruits had started it.

He angled his head slightly as he looked up the small distance between them. "I didn't approve of the high kick," he said.

She blinked. "What?"

"You kicked the second attacker in his face," Oneakka explained, but not by much.

"Well, he had it coming," she argued.

"High kicks like that unbalance you in a fight, open you to being pushed over or worse," he continued.

She took immediate exception. "I wasn't unbalanced." The fight in question had been pretty fast, but she remembered the kick he was going on about. "If you had noticed, I was actually holding on to the first attacker at the time, using him for my stability." After she had wrapped her towel around the idiot's face.

"It was a risky move. Don't do it again," he ordered.

She frowned at him, shifting her grip on the rope slightly to alleviate some shouting shoulder muscles. "I'll use whatever fighting techniques I choose, thank you," she told him, annoyed now.

"It was dangerous. It would have been better to push the first attacker into the second."

"That might work for someone of your size," she objected, "but we can't all fight by just shoving things over. Some of us have more finesse," she smiled.

One eyebrow lifted at her. "I don't just shove people over," he responded, rising surprisingly easily to that bait.

"No, sometimes you shake their ropes too," she added.

"You had a good grip," he excused it.

"And you could tell that from down here?"

"You didn't fall, did you," he pointed out with a smile of his own now.

She frowned at the teasing smug smile. Was she imaging that it felt slightly flirtatious?

"But you thought you would test my grip to find out?" She continued.

" _Only_ way to find out," he replied with sideways, but perhaps accurate, logic. "You'd be surprised what you can find out by shaking people."

Another typical Oneakka approach to situations. "Like how much loose currency they may have in their pockets?" She teased, purposefully misunderstanding his point.

"I never steal," he stated though, seeming to think he had to make that point.

"You do remember that I was with you when you tore Toshka's computer core out of his office wall and carried it away with us?"

"That was _confiscating_ , not stealing," he clarified.

She raised an eyebrow to suggest some doubt to that theory, not that she disagreed with him.

His eyes moved, focusing on her shoulders. Probably seeing the faint shake to her muscles from holding herself up on the rope after the climb. She held on though, refusing to move.

"So, if you're not here to tell me off for 'the incident', which I didn't start and I gave them all a warning," she started explaining herself even though she had promised herself she wouldn't if he did turn up.

"It was going to happen one way or another," he shrugged it off.

She frowned at him. Why was he always so unpredictable?!

"I did warn you," he added.

"You didn't tell me they were going to go that far," she argued, annoyed, yet also almost lightheaded with relief that the 'incident' clearly wasn't an issue.

"I didn't realise they would," he admitted. "The Elite select Recruits for various skills, and being overconfident and bold is a common trait."

"I had noticed," she commented with a pointed look.

Her shoulders and arms were hurting too much now; it was time to finally get down off the rope. She let go with one hand, reached out and set her hand on Oneakka's closest shoulder and used him as support as she flipped down and off the rope. It was an elegant enough dismount, mostly.

Back on the ground, she shook out her arms and hands, not hiding the discomfort anymore.

Oneakka, completely unfazed by her use of his shoulder, turned to face her.

"So," she asked, back on the same level as him now – and wasn't that just poignant? She was a free woman now, free to do what she wanted. "If you're not here to kick me out, then, other than providing your opinion on my fighting techniques, why are you here? Did you miss me?" She challenged sarcastically.

He gave her a glare, but she was enjoying herself more now, now she wasn't going to be blamed for the 'incident'. He really didn't seem upset with her for that. Not that it had been her fault.

"I came here because I need some intell, and also to discuss a theft," he announced.

"Who stole something?" She asked, interested. She was going to get to help out again? Maybe she could even go on some of his arrests– she'd missed them.

"You did," he answered though.

"What?" She objected quickly. "I didn't steal anything," she insisted hotly.

"My shirt," he replied. "The one you slept in while staying in my quarters."

"Oh," she uttered. "That shirt. I packed it by accident in with my other clothes," she explained honestly.

He didn't need to know that she'd been sleeping in it since.

It was just a useful piece of clothing, that was all.

"You can have it back," she offered quickly.

"It is my shirt," he countered.

"I know, I don't steal things either," she insisted. "It was an honest mistake. I'll go get it for you now," she stated. "Though, perhaps I should wash it first," she considered.

"Keep it," he replied though, slightly abruptly.

"No, you've come all this way to get it," she replied somewhat bitterly.

"Keep it. It's just a shirt," he replied with a frown.

"Then why bring it up?" Why was she feeling so sensitive about this?

"Fine, give it back," he ordered.

"No, you just said it was 'just a shirt'," she found herself arguing – why did she always find herself arguing with him?

"Then keep it," he stated, clearly victoriously.

Damn him.

In all the handsomeness and missing the action of the Sythus, she'd somehow forgotten that he could be really annoying and difficult. Yes, it was good to remember those qualities about him.

She sighed loudly. "If you want me to help you with your intell, you're going to have stop being so annoyingly stubborn about things."

"I just gave you a free shirt," he objected.

"It's not free if you only gave it to me so I will help you with your research," she pointed out.

Why was this getting out of hand so quickly? Maybe because she was feeling a little sensitive about him being here for research and not to see her. It was always about Iketani and the research with him. Did he care about anything else?

A frown creased his pale brow. "So, if you give the shirt back, you'll help me?" He asked seeming honestly confused.

"No," she replied, feeling faintly confused herself now, "you already gave it to me."

"Technically you stole it," he pointed out again.

She let out a breath. "Let's just agree that I can keep the shirt and I agree to help you."

He nodded. "And that you'll stop the high kicks," he added though.

She glared at him. "Don't push it," she told him as she moved away. "I need to shower and change first, so let's meet in the canteen to discuss the intell you need."

Her bag was sat on the floor near the closest wall. Her things were left alone now, none of the Recruits messing with her stuff anymore. She grabbed up her towel and wiped her face down. Movement to her immediate left was Oneakka having followed her across the gym. As she drank down some water, she glanced at him to see that his attention was fixed across the gym.

She looked round to see that the Recruits were fast disappearing out of the far exit. "Wow, they really are afraid of you," she laughed lightly as she took another sip of the refreshing water.

"Most people are," Oneakka replied.

She met his eyes, understanding his point. Madesh said that she was "disrespectful" towards Oneakka in the way she talked back to him, but she knew Oneakka didn't see it that way, besides he didn't really care what people thought about him. People thought him dangerous, and he was, but not to her.

"Most people are idiots," she informed him before reaching down to collect up her bag.

"Idiots use high kicks," Oneakka added.

She glared at him as she settled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "Let it go," she told him.

"Only if you promise not to use them again," he insisted, but there was a sparkle in his eyes now that suggested that he was being stubborn to be playful rather than annoying.

"High kicks have their place," she insisted logically.

"I don't use them," he returned.

"You might, depending on the situation," she countered as she turned towards the exit, leading the way out of the gym. "Come on I'm hungry," she told him, aware that she was pushing the edge of being 'disrespectful' to an Elite, but Oneakka followed her without comment, well some comments.

"I wouldn't use a high kick," he told her as he walked beside her out of the gym.

She looked at him at her side, rather enjoying the view. "Maybe you just can't kick as high as me," she baited him. "Maybe you're jealous."

"I don't need to kick that high, because kicking that high is stupid," he replied instantly though, that sparkle in his eyes still, though she suspected he did truly believe in his argument.

Not for the first time did she ponder the crazy turn her life had taken. How she had ended up here still amazed her, but now for Oneakka to be walking with her down the corridor, bickering together again...

It bubbled up a feeling that she wasn't all that used to feeling.

It was a little worrying as much as it was a little thrilling too, but feeling happy felt too good to squash. Besides, she didn't know how long he would be here to gain his research, so she had to get her teasing bickering time in.

"What if your arms were bound and you needed to attack someone coming at you?" She challenged as they turned a corner together.

"I'd shoulder barge them," he returned.

"What if..."

000000  
TBC


	13. The Support of Family

**Note:** Wow, where have the last few months gone?! Apologies for the huge gap in posting, but life has been SO busy. My flat purchase finally, after 8 months of waiting and legal issues, suddenly went through. Therefore, there was much packing, sorting bills, booking movers, signing legal things, getting mortgage, painting of new bedroom, the move, the Box City that I lived in for couple of weeks, unpacking, new utilities, internet that didn't work for a whole month, and in all this I have been working sometimes 40 hour weeks! It has, needless to say, been very busy but fantastic too.

Thank you to all those still ready to keep reading, for the kind enquiries as to whether I was okay, and the nudges from friends. Sorry to have been so quiet, but it's been very crazy. I suspect it will continue to be busy, but the writing is back on (I've really missed it), and in fact my brain has started planning another fic, so best to get this one out quickly to make space for the new one.

As it turns out, this chapter is a good one to ease back into the story. I hope people are still out there...

0000000

 **Chapter 13 – The Support of Family**

 _Atlantis_

It was another day, the same as all the others. Always the same. Days flowed from one to another without any sunlight or routine outside of the relentless burn treatments.

A small faintly curious part of Carson's mind wondered how long he had been in this little room. He didn't really know, and couldn't will up enough interest to find out. What difference would it make?

He just watched his constant view out of the open doorway out into the Infirmary, his previous workplace. He had used to be a good Doctor, capable, and confident.

Now there was just the deep overwhelming emptiness and grief lingering sharp at its edges.

His little room might as well be a pit and the doorway the single open entrance up into the real world, providing his limited view of life outside of his pain.

Or, like Plato's cave wall, where they just shadows? Had he died with the others and was now an empty ghost? Even alive, he felt haunted.

Faces of those who had been killed – they played almost constantly on the edges of the numbness, the fluttering wings of shame and responsibility heavy.

He kept watching each face that passed through his view of the Infirmary, looking for the faces of those lost. He knew he would never see Marie out there again, but he couldn't seem to stop himself for watching for her.

Desperately wanting to see her yet terrified if he did.

What if she appeared, stepping into his slither of life, her eyes boring into him, blaming him, pitying him, burning, ripped apart by the bomb that should have killed him?

He shut his eyes, shutting away the mental image of what she and the others must have gone through – all his fault.

In the darkness of the inside of his eyelids, Rodney's voice came forward in Carson's conscious awareness. The sound near constant, as was always the way with Rodney – couldn't let a silence live without filling it.

At least he wasn't sleeping in the room beside Carson now. John, Ronon, or even Colonel Carter appeared each evening to coax Rodney away, and the silence would then fall.

And Carson could hear the screams he hadn't heard, but imagined almost constantly.

He had let so many down, not just those killed, but their families. Had any of them had children? Even if each of those killed had small families, that still totalled a weight of grief Carson couldn't let press in on him without the wetness threatening to fill his sore eyes.

He squeezed his eyelids tightly, the left one screaming in pain as it stretched burnt skin.

He hadn't looked in a mirror yet – never planned to do so.

It wasn't his right to care about that.

"...so I told him that I was pleased General O'Neill was in the City," Rodney's voice abruptly pushed forward again into Carson's attention, the new information teasing at long suppressed curiosity.

General O'Neill was in the city?

"It doesn't bother me," Rodney continued his one sided diatribe, "Sam's over her feelings for me now, so she can date whoever she wants. Not that I believe any of the rumours, and I've got a girlfriend. Sam understands that."

Colonel Carter was dating someone? General O'Neill?

The tiny fact surfaced in Carson's awareness, sparking off faint traces of interest, but they were short-lived.

Marie and the others no longer had the chance to date, to live their lives to the full.

He opened his eyes to the view outside his room again, Rodney's voice dying back into the background once more, Carson's gentle background soundtrack.

A nurse moved through the view, tablet in her arm and holding all of her attention. Carson watched her appear and just as quickly disappear.

Not Marie.

Never Marie again.

She was never coming back.

She was dead and buried.

He hadn't even been able to go to her funeral...

00000

 _Just Outside Alliance Territory_

The Observational space was full of more warriors than ever before, all eyes on the shimmering images forming on the webbing overhead.

Long Sleep dropped his attention to his console, watching the flowing data from all the scanners – those still working.

It was enough data though to show, at least on outward appearances, that their long trek towards The Signal had been worth it.

"It _is_ a Hive," one voice stated for all. The outline of the distant Hive was clear, but so was a group of Cruisers at its side.

"Others have beaten us here," a warrior added worriedly with a touch of the angry jealousy that the absence of a Queen could provoke.

Long Sleep felt the others echo the sentiment. "The call was sent out for all to hear," Long Sleep reminded the audience all standing transfixed by the first images of the Hive.

Long Sleep returned his focused attention to the data. He frowned at the results, which grew more detailed with each second as they moved closer to the waiting Hive.

"She may judge us as weak for being so slow to arrive," one warrior unhelpfully suggested and the room's minds shifted with concern. They were so close to the fulfilment they had sought for. Long Sleep had kept them focused, kept them working to keep the Cruisers together with the promise of the hope of a new Queen to serve.

"The signal is still sounding," Long Sleep supplied calmly. "If she no longer wanted assistance the call would have stopped." The atmosphere softened back into excited nervous anticipation.

Long Sleep shook his head silently to himself. One would think them human cattle at their desperation.

A warrior shifted at Long Sleep's side, one whose mind was faster than most. Long Sleep nodded without words to indicate that he too had noticed the strange data.

There was something different about the new Hive.

Long Sleep requested the computer to display the Hive in closer detail on the webbing above them all. The visual expanded and he felt the entire audience watching shift in curiosity and caution.

Good, they were focusing on what was important.

This new Hive was oddly shaped. It had an extra thick hull, but also, grown out from the sides of the drive pods new strange looking growths.

Long Sleep tapped into the data, requesting more specific information from the sensors.

The warrior next to him shifted with interest, leaning closer to see the data. "A new type of engine?" He asked quietly.

"The readings suggest the hyperdrive has been adapted, but the new growths do not read as engines," Long Sleep muttered out loud. He had not seen anything like this before.

"A new weapon?" the other suggested hopefully.

"Perhaps," Long Sleep agreed, his eyes lifting back up to the image.

Abruptly a distant presence came alive in Long Sleep's awareness. He could feel the Queen, her mind was held back, but it was there, a song in the distance, and he could tell her attention was on him and his new arrivals.

A loud buzz and flash of a console announced to all that a new signal was being sent to them. As a collective unit the warriors, and even the watching drones, seemed to draw in their breath in anticipation.

Long Sleep swiftly assessed the signal, which confirmed it had all the correct frequencies.

It could be a trap. The Armoured Herd had already shown themselves to be far more devious than any of the Queens' Gathering had predicted or even imagined. Long Sleep could foresee that capturing a Hive vessel and sending out a call signal would be a very clever way of gathering up all the lost ships to be destroyed.

But, there was the Queen's mind in the distance, a call that was so strong that, even for Long Sleep's sharp intelligence, he activated the open link to the Hive without another thought.

The webbing's image shifted instantly and a wide pale warrior's face appeared for all to see. It instantly relaxed Long Sleep – no Wraith would willingly work with the Armoured Herd.

"Welcome," the new warrior's voice boomed deep and loud through the webs, "in the name of our new Great Queen."

Long Sleep disengaged himself from the console and moved forward on the raised platform that set him higher than the rest of the watching audience.

"Which Great Queen calls us from so far?" He asked of the new face. He did not recognise the warrior, but the warrior's exceedingly pale complexion and the thin line of tattoos drawn sharply across both his cheekbones spoke of a high ranking warrior of one of the strongest lineages. They were a thicker skulled lineage than Long Sleep's own Queen's lineage, but they fine warriors.

The new warrior bared his teeth with a pleased hiss. "A new Queen, young in years, but bred for war like that never seen before. She is not yet known among the stars, but that will soon change. Her own Great Queen and Mother has been murdered by the enemy cattle and so she has called all warriors to her, gathering the strongest for us to strike into the very heart of the enemy."

The audience around Long Sleep murmured in desperate agreement, their yearning to join the potential mission already absolute.

"We will bring vengeance upon the enemy," the new warrior almost shouted and those all around Long Sleep hissed loudly in delight.

Long Sleep could not help his own lips from parting in anticipation of such a mission, such purpose for his new Queen. His heart was beating fast in his chest and all concerns were melting away.

He could serve again.

"We are ready," Long Sleep stated loud for all of his group and they echoed in loud shouts of loyalty.

"Bring your ship closer," the new warrior smiled. "Your new Queen awaits your minds. Your leaders will soon be invited onboard the Hive to meet the Great Queen for you to pledge your loyalty to her."

"Our ships are in need of some healing," Long Sleep informed the warrior, though already the Hive's sensors must have seen as much.

"You will receive every and all assistance you require to bring your vessels into fighting order," the warrior replied instantly. "You are now part of the Hive."

The primitive childlike relief and excitement that burst among all the minds around Long Sleep was almost as heady as his own instinctive reactions.

They had a Queen once more.

They had purpose.

And they had the means to strike back at the enemy.

He could not have hoped for more.

000000

 _Tjaru - Athos_

He wasn't overly used to wearing formal clothes, but today was important, as Torren had reminded him incessantly yesterday and this morning. It was hardly the first time there was an important official meal here, and Elkaska was more than capable of looking presentable and didn't need the constant reminders. However, he understood that Torren wanted today to go well, so he had stopped himself from making any pointed comments that might lead to an argument. He and Torren had always been able to start an argument easily enough, and with Torren clearly concerned about today, Elkaska had decided to be the calm grown-up of the day.

Or at least keep hold of his tongue and spend time with the calmest person in the Governing Complex.

He tracked Charin down in Torren's office, where she had selected a place to sit away from the bustle of activity filling the complex. As he had expected, she was sat calmly in her preferred high-backed soft chair in the far corner of the office, sipping tea and reading a book.

"A calm place at last," he sighed as the door shut behind him.

Charin looked round, her lips poised above the rim of her tea cup. "Hello, Elkaska."

"May I intrude upon your calm?" He asked, ensuring that she did not wish to be alone.

Umo though, his old pet, didn't bother to wait for an invitation. Umo padded his heavy paws across the carpet to Charin's knees.

"Of course you may," Charin replied to him as she set down her cup and ruffled Umo's ears. "Good day to you lovely Umo," she said softly and Umo's purring was her instant reward.

Elkaska settled into the spare high-backed chair and sighed out with relief. Then reached up and undid the top buttons of his smart shirt.

"Help yourself to tea," Charin offered, one aged hand indicating the spare stack of tea cups behind the large covered tea pot. "After all it is your tea."

"Testing the special tea before the meal?" Elkaska asked as he uncovered the pot and breathed in the unusual fragrance. Pleased he had negotiated some from Stroat for today, he poured himself a cup.

"I had no doubt it would be lovely," Charin smiled. "You can't blame an old woman for being curious."

He pulled a face at her usual tactic. "You have been using that excuse for too many years already, Charin," he replied as he sipped the tea. "Mmm, I forgot how good it was."

"I understand the growers live near active volcanoes on their world, the soil rich with nutrients," Charin asked.

"They plant a vast array of flowers among the tea," Elkaska informed her, "and then dry a mix of the flowers in with the tea leaves."

"It is a world outside the Alliance?"

"Not that far outside our border now," Elkaska sipped another fragrant mouthful. "I'm hoping that it won't be long until they are within Alliance care."

"The price will go down," Charin commented.

"I managed a particularly good deal for this batch."

"As you always do, fine Trader."

The door opened abruptly across the room and Torren appeared, dressed in his best gold and red jacket.

"There you both are," he greeted them almost sharply. "They will be here shortly."

"Yes, we are ready, Torren," Charin replied before Elkaska could respond. "Ready and waiting, do not concern yourselves about us."

"Hakon is checking the food preparation now and all looks on schedule," Torren uttered as he moved to his busy desk and glanced over it. "I will have to leave the latest garden land trade contracts until later."

"I have already glanced over them for you, Torren," Charin replied. "I have marked the areas that need addressing, so it can wait until tomorrow and the meeting."

"Which will be prior to the officials from Atlantis visiting tomorrow," Torren muttered as he adjusted his jacket collar. "I see you have dressed appropriately today, Elkaska. Thank you."

Elkaska nodded, pressing his lips together to stop himself from speaking his mind.

"Have you looked over the table setting?" Charin asked.

"Yes," Torren replied, "but I asked for fewer flowers. I want us to be able to see each other over the table. I hope there is enough room for us with the table pulled away from the wall in the family dining area. Perhaps we should have set up the table in one of the official dining rooms."

Elkaska frowned at Torren's anxious mutterings. He was rarely ever like this. In fact, it usually niggled at Elkaska how calm and sensible Torren was practically every minute of his life. Yet, today Torren appeared extremely worried.

It was only Sheppard, who had been here before plenty of times. What was the problem? Surely the more worrying meeting would be tomorrow when Atlantis and Earth would finally be sending their official representatives outside of Sheppard and Mr Woolsey.

"The family dining area will be fine, Torren," Charin assured him. "We were just fine around the table when we had Zabetha and Rhakshar's meal, were we not?"

"There is one extra person now," Torren considered.

"There are hardly that many of us to require more space," Charin brushed his concern aside. "The table is fine and looks lovely I am sure. Are Zabetha and Rhakshar ready?"

"Zabetha is removing the excess flowers," Torren replied as he paced away from his desk back towards the door. "Rhakshar is somewhere, I will find out where."

And then he was out of the door without another word.

Elkaska looked round at Charin with a frown. "What is wrong with him? I've never seen him like this."

"You have, but it is so rare that it is easy to forget," Charin answered as she reached for her tea cup again, Umo snoozing against her feet. "It is an important day."

"Not that important," Elkaska disagreed. "Sheppard has been here hundreds of times, and we've eaten meals with him. What is the problem?"

Charin smiled at him over her cup. "Torren wants things to go well and to make a good impression."

"We've all met Sheppard plenty of times. Torren meets with representatives and ambassadors all the time, mediates aggressive legal disagreements, oversees vital contracts, and meets people from across the stars with barely a shift to his expression. Why is he so worried about Sheppard being here today?"

"He wants it to go well," Charin repeated. "Not simply as good politics, and to help John feel welcome, but he wants it to go well for Teyla."

"Teyla is fine, she chose Sheppard."

Charin angled her head. "And when has she ever brought a gentleman to us to meet before now? The family are well aware, are we not, that Sheppard is not just a political choice, and not just a friend of Teyla's."

Elkaska considered that. "Why is that worrying for Torren? He likes Sheppard." Umo lifted his head from Charin's foot and looked at him, having picked up on his tone. Elkaska smiled reassuringly down at his pet and friend.

"Because Teyla will feel uncomfortable, and Torren wants her to feel she can share her life with us. As short as it may be."

Elkaska paused at the reference to the usually unspoken fact regarding the average Elite lifespan. Teyla's predicted lifespan. He didn't worry quite as much as the others, having seen her in battle himself and knowing the support and strength of those around her. But, it was true enough that his niece placed herself in great danger routinely.

And one day she might not return.

That this could be the family's last meal all together...

He understood the pain of that fact; he dealt with it almost daily himself.

"It doesn't matter how much Torren makes this home welcoming for her," Elkaska said softly, "she will never leave her work behind her. She will never walk away from the Elite and danger. Torren knows that."

"It does not stop him hoping, Elkaska," Charin said sadly. "He will never stop hoping that she might one day come home to stay. That she might be safe and the fear of losing her, as he did Tagan, will never go."

Elkaska glanced away, the sadness rising in his throat, threatening him with sudden tears.

Umo's soft snout brushed his hand.

He focused on stroking Umo's closest ear and pushing away the worry for Teyla and the deep sadness of his sister's loss with long practice and little ongoing success.

"He wants to create a good family memory today," Elkaska understood. "To give Teyla a resemblance of normalcy."

"For all of us," Charin replied softly, but Elkaska kept his eyes on Umo purring under his hand. "For us all to sit together and eat as if the Wraith did not exist, and welcome our new family member."

Elkaska guessed he could understand that well enough.

"Has Sitayi ever said anything to you about Teyla's future?" He asked carefully.

Charin shook her head. "She would not tell me if I did ask, and I do not."

"I haven't asked her either," he confessed.

"Neither of us wants to place Sitayi in the position of telling us, even without meaning to, of any horrors the future might bring for our family."

Elkaska returned his attention to Umo and wished he was just simply irritated with the anxious Torren again.

"Sometimes your wisdom is far too clear and real, Charin," he whispered.

"I am not telling you anything you do not already know," she replied and a cool elderly hand touched against his arm. He moved one hand from Umo to cover Charin's hand. She had leant far out from her chair to reach him, which could not be comfortable for her age, but made the gesture all the more meaningful.

He gently squeezed and rubbed her hand, adding some of his warmth to her cool fingers. "Then," he decided, "I think it is important that I do what I can to add to today. I will go and see how Teyla is doing," he decided, "see if I can help save her from Torren's anxiousness."

Charin smiled before withdrawing her hand. "I am certain she will welcome your presence."

He reached for his tea and downed the last of it before standing up. "I shall see you soon," he told Charin. "Are you coming with me, Umo, or staying with Charin?" He asked his pet, but Umo padded to his side. "Coming to see Teyla and Ketra then?"

Charin laughed gently as she picked up her book. "I believe Teyla is still up in her new quarters seeing through her work before the meal."

Elkaska nodded as he moved away. "Good, I haven't seen the new bed in place yet." The bed that had been his wedding present for Teyla and Sheppard.

"Just remember, Elkaska," Charin added with more command to her tone, drawing his attention back to her, "some subjects require subtlety today."

Elkaska grinned though as he opened the door. "She needed a new bed," he shrugged.

Charin pulled a face. "It is a lovely bed indeed."

"I will not say anything to Sheppard that might embarrass Teyla," he promised, honestly.

"Or anything to anyone else," Charin clarified the details of the promise, just like his Mother had used to do. No doubt Charin had learnt to be so specific with him from his own Mother.

"I promise," Elkaska agreed as he rolled his eyes and left the office. "Unless the meal is boring," he amended down to Umo at his side. "Then the deal is off."

Umo glanced up at him, not understanding him, but always supportive.

"See, you agree," Elkaska told him. "So I must be right."

Smiling at himself, he made his way into the family area of the complex, through the sweet smells of the meal cooking nearby, and up the stairs. As he passed the door to Teyla's old quarters, he paused and knocked, just in case she might still be packing things inside. There was no answer, so he moved on down the corridor, making his way to the new wing.

Up a short flight of stairs he moved down the new corridor. The door to Teyla's new quarters stood open, in which Ketra's face appeared, no doubt having heard him and Umo approaching. With a burst of energy belying his advanced age, Umo hurried forward to greet his friend. Ketra danced about, banging her large tail against the corridor walls without care as the two danced around each other, sniffing each other's ears and then touching snouts.

"Ketra?" Teyla's voice arrived from inside the open doorway.

"She is simply greeting Umo," Elkaska called to his niece as he moved carefully between the two animals so as not to step on any foot or tail.

"Hello, Uncle," Teyla's voice replied warmly as he reached the doorway and looked inside.

The previously bare and empty quarters were now full of her things as if they had always been in there. Her wall hangings added colour to the walls, plants, books, scrolls and trinkets lining shelves and surfaces. The lights shone brightly over the new carpets and the scent of her favourite incense hung in the air.

It had been her Mother's favourite.

Elkaska inhaled the familiar and nostalgic smell, missing Tagan anew, as he headed through Teyla's new lounge towards the open doorway to the bedroom from where her voice had called.

Teyla appeared into view, her smile wide and only slightly cautious around the edges. It seemed that some anxiousness had found her after all.

He stepped into her bedroom to see that some boxes were still being unpacked, but they appeared to be the last. "Your new home is looking lovely," he smiled at her, purposefully not yet mentioning the bed, but he could already see that she had used it last night, the bedding slightly unmade still. It looked as if he had interrupted her unpacking some of her clothes from a box on her bed.

"I still have some unpacking and sorting of things to do," she replied.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked.

She gave him a faint look before she turned back to lifting fabrics out of the box. "Yes, very well indeed," she confirmed the comfort of the new bed.

"Good, good," he was pleased.

He noted that she was dressed a little differently today. She wore Elite style trousers, but a light flowing colourful, very Athosian top above it. There were open slits in the sleeves of the top allowing her skin to breathe, something that he had noticed her previous mood of tight closed in clothing had no doubt prevented. In keeping with the Elite side of things, as usual, she wore a holster against one hip and a small knife secure at the back of her belt. Her hair was not braided back off her face today, but tied loosely back at the nape of her neck, again more Athosian. A few tendrils of hair hung down around her face.

She looked very much like Tagan today.

"I am glad you like the bed," he continued, pleased to address the subject. "Excellent craftsmanship, do you not agree?" He pushed.

"Yes," she replied as she set the fabrics away in her wardrobe. "Very, apt," she added pointedly.

"I thought so," Elkaska tried not to grin too widely. "The craftsman was very excited to use both Ancestor symbols and Athosian together."

Teyla nodded as she closed her wardrobe, as usual, not all that forthcoming about the true depth of her relationship with Sheppard. It was too late of course, they all knew the truth of it. "I'm sure you'll mention to Sheppard that it's a gift for you both," he pushed, amused at his niece's discomfort at something as pleasing as her being in love.

"I shall," she promised. "It is almost time for their arrival."

Elkaska nodded, accepting the change of subject. "I'm surprised you are not meeting Sheppard at the Portal," he asked.

"I wished for John to meet his Honour Guard without me at first, and Father preferred that we all greet John into the Governing Complex together.

Elkaska watched the anxiety slide around the frown that creased her forehead as she glanced around her room. He realised that she would want it presentable, for surely Sheppard would be taken through to his own new quarters. Elkaska glanced towards the adjoining doorway, seeing that she had left it partly open, which was a very political choice. In such thoughts, and in her current intense frown, he saw more of Torren in her.

It occurred to him to wonder how much of Torren's anxiousness today might be in response to Teyla's own, or perhaps Torren knew more than the rest of them. Either way, she did not need to be so serious like Torren today.

"I'm looking forward to seeing Sheppard again," Elkaska told her brightly. "He is good company, and at least we will not have to deal with Mr Woolsey today."

That brought forth her smile again. "Mr Woolsey is a good representative for his people, he works hard for their best interests," she replied, but he could see that she agreed with him.

"Today isn't about politics, Teyla," he reminded her though. "It is about family."

The frown returned briefly. He saw the argument on her lips, the urge to insist on the political fact of her Political Marriage.

She sighed and looked away. "Yes, I suppose it is," she said softly.

Now it was his turn to frown at her. "You seem nervous," he commented.

Her head snapped up, her control and chin both lifting. "I simply want today to go well for Father," she stated instantly.

Elkaska looked at her with soft amusement. "Teyla," he spoke frankly, "I have known your face since the first day you arrived into the world." She smiled softly at that.

"So do not think that I cannot see through you," he stated. "No Uncle," he mimicked the young Teyla he remembered so well, "of course I ate all my tuttleroot stew. I didn't give any of it to Umo."

Teyla grinned. "Old Umo," she recalled her expression saddening briefly. The latest Umo was in the next room, by the sounds of it playing quite madly for his age, but Elkaska ignored the noise.

"You, and then baby Zabetha, made that pour creature very fat."

"Of course it was us and had nothing to do with you feeding her food fit for royalty," Teyla challenged back.

Elkaska had to concede to that quite factual assessment. "I have been better with this Umo."

Teyla smiled and nodded, her attention shifting to the doorway through which they could hear Ketra and Umo playing - mostly likely on the sofas, if Elkaska's ear told him correctly.

"Today will be fine, Teyla," he reassured her, moving closer and placing his hands on her arms. "Sheppard has been here many of times before, and your Father simply wants us to all welcome Sheppard properly into the family."

Teyla nodded, but her smile did not quite reach her eyes.

"You are still happy with your choice of husband?" He checked.

She nodded again. "Yes."

"I am sure Maloo is still available if you have changed your mind," he teased.

She lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Imagine how dull this meal would be if Maloo was going to be here," Elkaska winced. "At least your Sheppard is interesting and has a sense of humour."

"He has plenty of humour," she agreed. "I suspect he might fall back on it today, as he will be feeling nervous and uncomfortable being the centre of attention."

"That is something he's going to have to get used to now he is your husband."

She nodded. "And I too when I will be staying in Atlantis."

"Do you think you'll visit Earth?" Elkaska asked. "Because if you need someone to go with you-"

"And be the first trader to see Earth and all its unique trading goods?"

Elkaska smiled. "It was just an offer."

She grinned at him, her own humour returned. "Thank you, Uncle." Her warm hands touched his elbows.

He slid his arms through her grasp so that he held her hands in his. "I know that I'm not your sensible Father, or calm and wise like Charin, or share your youth as you do with Zabetha, but I am always here for you, Teyla. I am always an ear and a safe place to turn if you need it."

He had assisted the Elite over the years, but had never seen Teyla as needing him for anything. She might never need him, being so strong and capable a warrior, but in the realm of family and relating to people, he had the means to be supportive and maybe helpful to her.

She tightened her hands in his; her grip so strong and her skin tough in places from her training. "I love you dearly, Uncle. I know that you are always there if I need you. Insightful and aware as you are," she added pointedly glancing towards the bed.

"I just wanted it to be clear," he replied, meaning both his support and his pointed gift to her and her new husband.

She smiled, her eyes shining with her Mother's colour and elegance.

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TBC


	14. Visiting the In-Laws

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 **Chapter 14 – Visiting the In-Laws**

 _Athos_

It was with some trepidation, but also relief, that John stepped away from the watching IOA and military eyes in Atlantis through the Stargate and onto Athos.

It had been raining again, the dark blue clouds above hanging heavily, and the air felt thick with humidity. John's head ached faintly with the pressure of the atmosphere, but then it might have been due to the sight in front of him.

When he usually arrived, whether with Woolsey or not, a small group of Athosian Guards would pour out of the Guard Station off to the left and Abas would be with them, smiling as always.

Today, as John had secretly feared, they had prepared a more formal welcome party for him.

Long lines of Athosian City Guards faced him, their backs straights, chins held high and weapons held up and tight against their sides. A parade call shouted out from somewhere at the back and all the Guards abruptly turned, so that three lines now faced each other, and then all took three precise perfectly timed steps backwards, opening up a clear path ahead away from the Gate.

Into that clear, but muddy, open ground, six Guards marched into view. Athosians didn't march with high knees or anything showy, they strode straight and true, the steps measured and precise for the parade ground show.

Another shout drew the central line to a stop and they turned to face John and Ford. With no small amount of relief, John recognised one of them – Abas. Abas broke forward from his line, his parade ready posture relaxing, but not as much as usual. As Abas walked towards them, his smile as bright as always, but John noticed that the guy's uniform was different. The jacket was a shade lighter and there was shiny new embroidery at his shoulders and down his sleeves. A golden circle of embroidery shone from the left front pocket.

He wasn't the only one wearing the new golden circle symbol though; the five Guards who filled up the central space behind Abas, followed him, their steps still parade ground precise. These five, three guys and two women, wore completely different uniforms, the fabric black with subtle extra padding at the shoulders, elbows and knees. Extra pockets looked full of similar equipment John guessed he would find in his own tac vest, if he had worn one today. He felt kind of naked without it, but these five were not naked of any weapons. They had the usual Athosian holster and fighting stick holster, but they also had an extra holster which, if John's wasn't mistaken, held an Elite stunner. There was also the hint of the occasional knife hilt poking out from behind a hip bone as the five snapped to a halt in front of John and Ford, Abas just ahead of them, grinning brightly.

"It is a great pleasure to greet you Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford," Abas began.

John pulled his eyes from the new Guards and smiled at Abas. "It's great to be back," he replied, wondering if he should have something more official sounding for all the extra listening Guard ears on both sides of the open space in front of the Gate.

"I am bid to officially welcome you to Athos for the first time as one of our own," Abas continued, his voice rising a little for those listening ears no doubt.

John glanced at all the lines of Guards on both sides of him and Ford – this felt a very military style greeting. What would General O'Neill say in this situation? Actually, he probably wasn't the best example when it came to official talk. Maybe John should take a leaf out of Woolsey's political savvy book.

When had he started equating Woolsey with anything 'savvy'?!

"I am honoured to be here," John replied a little louder than necessary.

Abas beamed even brighter, "I am to escort you to meet Leader Torren and your new family. However," he added as he stepped aside so that the middle member of the line of unusual Guards could step forward in front of John; the guy's posture screaming 'Military'. "I have the great honour," Abas indicated the man, "to introduce you to your personal Honour Guard."

Personal Honour Guard?

"May I present," Abas continued, "Lead Guard, Vakalis."

Vakalis finally relaxed his strained posture to meet John's gaze directly and he held out his hand to shake John's hand. "Major Sheppard."

John reached out and shook the man's hand. The grip was strong, giving one solid shake and releasing John.

"Vakalis," John repeated the man's name to be polite, but also to help him remember it. He took in the unusual uniform for an Athosian, all dark and military. However, there was the faintest shimmer to the fabric of the uniform, which John was almost certain meant it had that Elite Wraith stunner defusing thread running through it.

He needed to talk to Teyla about getting some of that stuff for Atlantis.

"We have passed paths before, Major Sheppard," Vakalis added. He was faintly shorter than John and looked about the same age, but he had let the grey grow through his hair. "I was visiting my brother who worked as a Guard up at the Governing Complex on the day the assassins killed High Councillor Garthew."

John didn't need any more reminding of that day. The memories of racing up through Tjaru on Teyla's heels as they had desperately chased after Iketani' sent assassins who had been intent to kill Teyla's family up in the Governing Complex. He and Teyla had gotten there just in time to save Torren and Zabetha, but Rhakshar had taken a bullet for his then fiancé.

Teyla's family had been saved, and Rhakshar had recovered, but John remembered that a few Athosian Guards had lost their lives.

"I remember the bravery of the Guards who defended the Governing Complex," John replied.

Vakalis inclined his head. "My Brother lost his life that day, but I witnessed your part in saving Mistress Zabetha when I joined the Guards entering the Courtyard."

John felt bad that he hadn't recognised Vakalis' face, but there had been a lot of Guards there and he had let them do their work taking away the assassins. And he had been very focused on staying by Teyla's side afterwards when that fury had been bubbling up in her that had driven them from Athos to Dreamstation and then to the final battle with Iketani.

Yes, it was a day that John would never forget, as no doubt did Vakalis.

"I'm sorry we didn't get there faster to help your brother," John offered, knowing it wasn't enough.

Vakalis inclined his head in that very Athosian way. "He rests peacefully with the Ancestors and I know he was avenged by the Elite."

John nodded. "That they did," he replied, not sure how many knew the true circumstances around how Iketani had finally been killed by Massa. John guessed that not many knew Massa's very personal reasons.

"So now you've been stuck with this detail?" John joked to try and lift the mood.

Abas leant forward. "I can assure you, Major Sheppard, your Honour Guard have all volunteered for their positions and were personally handpicked by Honoured Elite Emmagan."

So Teyla was behind this; he should have guessed. She wanted him to have his own personal bodyguards to make sure he didn't fall down any more holes or get himself killed in Alliance territory.

And these five had volunteered to look after his backside?

Though, thinking about it from their point-of-view, he was now the Political Husband of an Elite warrior and kind of an ambassador from Atlantis, so looking after his ass was probably some great honour or something.

"I'm very grateful for the honour, Vakalis," John said quickly.

"It is our honour, Major Sheppard," Vakalis replied. "If you would permit me to introduce the rest of your Honour Guard," he said as he indicated the woman to his right. She stepped forward, Abas disappearing out of view.

"May I present Meroe," Vakalis introduced the very Athosian looking woman. She was about a foot taller than Teyla but had the same dark, almost black eyes, which seemed to be common among the Athosians.

"Major Sheppard," Meroe nodded as she shook John's hand politely, but again with a strong grip.

"Meroe," John replied with a smile.

"Next," Vakalis moved with John to the man next to Meroe, "I introduce Shemu."

Shemu was quite short, but was almost as wide in the shoulders as he was high. The guy's handshake was seriously strong and fast and John had to hold in the wince as Shemu tried to dislocate his shoulder.

"Shemu," John repeated as they released hands.

Vakalis turned to his other side and the next member of the Guard stepped forward for introduction.

She was perhaps the tallest woman John had ever met, easily as tall as Halling. She had slightly paler skin than the others.

"I introduce Neith," Vakalis introduced her, "who hails from the furthest lands of Athos."

John shook her long elegant hand, aware of the unusual nature of meeting a woman so significantly taller than him. "Pleased to meet you."

"Major Sheppard," she inclined her head, her voice holding a stronger sing-song quality than the others. He wondered if it was some regional Athosian accent.

"And finally," Vakalis introduced the last member of the group, "Tyndall."

Tyndall stepped forward and offered his hand. "Major Sheppard."

He was the most 'standard' looking of the group, being average height, weight, and body build.

John frowned at Tyndall slightly, the guy seeming almost familiar.

Tyndall seemed to smile at that though. "I should inform you, Major Sheppard, I am second cousin to Honoured Elite Emmagan.

"Oh," John replied, seeing the family similarity to both Teyla and Zabetha now, but not to Torren. "On Tagan's side?" John guessed.

"Yes, indeed," Tyndall grinned, clearly pleased John had worked that out himself. "I am especially pleased to meet you, as family."

John shook the guy's hand and smiled back. He hadn't thought about Teyla having any more family than Torren, Zabetha and Elkaska, but with the Wraith now held back, he guessed she would have some around. Hopefully they wouldn't all be there for the meal today!

"You joining in the big meal today?" John asked Tyndall.

"No," Tyndall shook his head. "It is just for immediate family, but I was at your wedding. I had a second row seat from which to witness your offering and the Wedding ceremony." There was something in Tyndall's smile that made John feel slightly more uncomfortable. There was a sparkle in Tyndall's eyes that suggested that he had seen more than just a politically driven offering? Had word gotten around all of Teyla's family that they hadn't been 'just' friends? Or maybe he was seeing things and was a tad sensitive on the subject?

Tyndall said no more though as he stepped back into line. John could see the humour in the guy's eyes though – similar in fact to Elkaska, who was a relative of Tyndall. Elkaska had once joked to John that it was Torren's side of the family that made Teyla so serious at times, and now John could kind of believe it.

John suddenly remembered that Ford was stood just behind his shoulder. "And may I introduce," he said using Vakalis' turn of phrase, "Lieutenant Ford of Atlantis and Planet Earth," as he indicated the kid.

Ford snapped a sharp and precise parade ground ready salute.

John tried not to roll his eyes at Ford's tense posture and intent look as he saluted the Honour Guard; he always took these things very seriously. "He's very pleased to meet you," John translated for the Guard, seeing that they were all nodding formally to Ford, which would no doubt make the kid happy.

"At ease," John whispered to Ford as he turned back to the group.

Abas stepped forward again with a smile. "I trust you are pleased with your Honour Guard?"

How do you answer that question? Yes, I'm happy that these five strangers have volunteered to watch my backside, and hopefully not get themselves killed in doing so.

"I am very pleased and honoured," John replied, utilising some Woolsey savviness. "Hopefully it won't be too boring an assignment for you all," he had to add though. Actually he kind of hoped it would be a boring assignment for his new Honour Guard. Unfortunately, if history was any indication, his life tended to fall into the 'interesting' category, being rarely without some gunplay and falling down holes. He just hoped they all stayed alive.

Vakalis stepped forward again to join John and Abas. "Honoured Elite Emmagan has commanded that we are to always be by your side when you visit Athos, only stepping away at her direct command, and we can be deployed to your side within Alliance territory at a single call."

Okay that was cool; his own Alliance taskforce!

Though, he hadn't missed the point about Teyla being the one to tell his Honour Guard when to give him room.

"But, we are to _always_ be present when you visit Athos," Vakalis repeated with some meaningful weight in his tone.

"So, no running off then, huh?"

A faint smile warmed Vakalis' expression. "Honoured Elite Emmagan asked me to stress that particular point to you."

"Mmm, I bet she did," John muttered under his breath, but suspected Vakalis had heard him.

"We are assigned to protect you above all others," Vakalis added, "and will do whatever is required within the limits of Elite law."

John wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but suspected it was important that it was 'Elite law' and not 'Alliance' or even 'Athosian' law. He'd have to ask Teyla about that.

Teyla.

His eyes were drawn off to the right, up to where Tjaru was visible in the near distance looking down over the fields and the Gate. She would be up there waiting for him...along with her family; which included Torren who had witnessed their 'little' argument after their wedding.

"If you are ready to proceed to the City," Abas interrupted John's anxious thoughts, "it may be best to start walking. It looks as if more rain is on its way."

John nodded as he glanced up at the overbearing skies. "Rainy season still, huh?"

"For some time still to last, I am afraid to say," Abas replied as he indicated the way forward between the lines of watching City Guards.

John's Honour Guard parted to allow him, Ford, and Abas forward, but Vakalis and Meroe quickly strode forward to take point. John silently practiced the Honour Guard's names again in his head – Vakalis was the leader, Meroe was taller than Teyla, Shemu was short and wide, Neith was as tall as Halling, and Tyndall was the second cousin.

As expected, the road up to Tjaru was as muddy as ever, but today only one side of the road was being used by the carts and pedestrians, and John had the uncomfortable feeling that was because of him. There were clearly more Athosians around on the used side of the road too, included quite a few kids, who all waved enthusiastically as John and Ford passed by, along with the Honour Guard and half the Guards from around the Gate marching behind.

John waved back at the kids, nodding and smiling to the smiling Athosian audience, and tried not to feel like a piece of meat on show.

Maybe he should have worn his Blues after all.

Ford, who was walking just behind John's left shoulder, had been chatting to Abas, and John heard him ask about the whole military show marching along behind them.

"It is tradition," Abas reported, always ready with details on Athosian custom and history. "When a new Political Husband or Wife attends for their first official visit, the local military is responsible for greeting them and protecting them. This is important as the visiting party do not bring military personnel of their own, outside of one or two guards."

John nodded along, well aware today that it was just him and Ford visiting. Though it had been just the two of them on the Sythus together on the last mission, it felt weird that they were on Athos without Cadman and perhaps Lorne's team along as usual. But, John trusted the Athosians and, besides, apparently he and Ford were the only ones from Atlantis invited to some Alliance Military meeting later.

"Have people tried to take over a plant that way before then?" Ford asked Abas, "turning up with an army after a Political Wedding?"

"Indeed," Abas smiled, "there were a few historical occasions when such tactics were used in the early days of the Alliance. In fact, that is how the Genii Confederation regained control of some of its old territory on one or two occasions," he winced though. "Not that I should be speaking that way about our allies..."

"It's okay," John reassured him, "we've come up against Genii tactics before."

Abas nodded, glancing back slightly towards the City Guards following them, and then back to John. "I should not say this, but most of us are very pleased that the Genii did not win the Political Marriage," he whispered. "Most Athosians do not trust the Genii," he added, again with a quiet voice and a glance back down the road. He didn't seem to mind talking like this in front of the Honour Guard though, or was there a Guard official in the other group following that made Abas nervous?

"Why?" Ford asked, but to John's mind anyone with some intelligence wouldn't trust the Genii.

"There were some early disagreements between our people in the first days of the Alliance. We disagreed with how they had claimed old territory as theirs before they agreed to join the Alliance," Abas replied, his voice still low.

"But they've got a lot of firepower," John guessed the new Alliance had needed.

"Indeed, and they played a vital role in the success of the early Alliance," Abas nodded. "And although they have done little to provoke matters since, very few on the Athosian worlds believe that the Genii were innocent of the invasion of Atlantis by one of their renegade commanders."

Kolya. John felt his teeth clench at the mere thought of the guy. Kind of made him feel more comfortable with the idea of his new Honour Guard bodyguards. The realisation occurred that Teyla might have thought of the same.

Teyla.

John's eyes strayed back towards the fast approaching city of Tjaru.

As was always the way, he could feel the anticipation in knowing that he was going to see her any minute. Despite all the arguments and the uncertain way they had left things on the Sythus, he couldn't seem to stop himself from feeling the excitement.

He had had the worrying thought that she might have changed her mind about their agreement to start over, to put the shouting and blaming behind them. Even if she hadn't, he couldn't forget her confessed confusion about her love for him, that she didn't know what to do with those feelings and be an Elite warrior. Though hurt with her over that, he'd come to understand her thinking more since.

Seeing how Colonel Carter, General O'Neill and the IOA lot had responded to the contract, to hear the wealth of potential trade and possible tech sharing, had brought a heavy weight of reality to his new marriage.

In his heart he knew he loved Teyla, and he could admit he had been driven as much from love as he had fear of the Genii when he'd made his offer to marry her. Though it had been the best outcome for both his and Teyla's people, it had brought their fun affair into a new light. When they'd been rolling around her bed together, Woolsey and Torren had been actually putting together a political relationship and discussing trade details with the Alliance that could literally change everything. With Atlantis now tied with Athos and the Elite, victory over the Wraith might be a real possibility because of Torren and Woolsey's work.

As a Political Husband, John now had actual status in the Alliance, which was enough that an entire Military battalion turned up to say hi when he stepped through the Stargate. He had the ability to use his position to better things for Atlantis and maybe help the fight against the Wraith and free this galaxy. It was a serious weight that had him glancing back at the lines of marching Athosian Guards who were following him.

How had he gone from a secret little affair with Teyla to this?

He had become something a politician or ambassador, and that meant real responsibility that felt like it was threatening to clog up his throat. Working with the Elite, fighting Wraith and flying advanced shuttles through dangerous atmospheres he could do – being a political figure...he had no idea what that meant and if he even wanted it.

But it was the price, the price of ensuring Atlantis' future...and the price of loving Teyla it seemed.

At least both he and Teyla were in the same boat and both seemingly as confused as each other about it all.

Except if she'd maybe worked it all out since the Sythus, while he had been having sleepless nights with no clue what to do about their personal relationship in all this.

"...and that was the last Political Wedding on Athos prior to Mistress Zabetha's marriage," Abas was saying to Ford, always the historian.

John forced his attention on the two, pushing away the nagging worries and glowing anticipation. "Noticed you've got a new uniform, Abas," John asked, turning the subject away from weddings.

Abas seemed to grow a foot as he smiled. "I have been given the great honour to be officially placed as your assistant here on Athos."

John nodded and smiled, all while having thought Abas was that anyway. "Great, hope you got a good pay rise with the promotion."

Abas looked instantly uncomfortable. "I do not look to gain extra compensation, only to serve as best I can," he added quickly.

"Not that it hasn't gained you a lot of female attention in the city," Tyndall commented from behind Ford.

Abas' cheeks went bright red. "People are only curious to know about Major Sheppard and his people."

"I am sure that is the reason," Tyndall replied doubtfully and John had to smile. He was also pleased to see Vakalis glance over his shoulder towards Abas with a smile.

"I do not look for self promotion," Abas continued in almost desperation now.

"Just a fancy new uniform," John put in as he gently nudged Abas with his elbow, Tyndall sniggering behind. Yep, Tyndall was definitely the joker of his team.

Abas looked panicked.

"And if it helps you get the girl, then no harm," John assured him.

Ford said something quietly behind John's shoulder that could have been "like you did," but John couldn't be sure, and when he glared round at Ford, the kid was looking off to the left as if actually interested in the passing Athosian countryside.

John looked ahead again, only to be greeted by the fast approaching towers of Tjaru's Ancient Gateway. The City Guards, usually busy assessing everyone who wanted to enter the City, were today waiting for John and his entourage. All the people waiting to get into the city were stood in a long line to the left, all craning their necks to watch as John approached and passed by them. Cringing at skipping the queue and at getting so much attention, John fell back on the 'smile and wave at the kids' routine, which seemed to go down well.

Fortunately the Gateway quickly loomed overhead and the familiar tingle of Ancient tech filled John's awareness. As he passed between the towers, he could almost feel the power through them and each time he did, he was convinced that the towers met up again under the ground and that the Gateway was far larger than was visible above ground. Not that the towers weren't massive in of themselves.

The streets of Tjaru were their usual mix of busy shoppers and delivery carts rolling by, but John had been here enough to recognise that there were more people than normal out 'shopping' today. They smiled and nodded to him as he passed by, all grinning as if they had gotten to see a celebrity. If Athos had any celeb magazines, he suspected he would be the headlines news.

Gratefully, the half battalion that had followed them up from the Gate had stayed at the Gateway and so it was just the Honour Guard who were escorting him and Ford up to the Governing Complex. John knew the route well now, but that only brought back plenty of memories of all the feelings of anticipation at seeing Teyla.

Except, now it was anticipation at seeing his wife!

In very short order, they took the last turn of the road and the entrance to the Governing Complex appeared. Unfortunately, the Complex's Guards were waiting, all lined up parade style outside the entrance.

Feeling like a reluctant member of a royal family, John walked between the two lines of straight backed Guards and into the lobby of the Complex. Nervousness filled his throat as Vakalis and Meroe moved aside and suddenly he was the one in the lead and ahead of him in the middle of the large bright lobby, stood Teyla's family all waiting for him.

In an instant, John registered that Teyla wasn't with them.

That couldn't be good.

"Major Sheppard," Torren greeted him loudly as he stepped forward, "welcome my new Honoured Son."

Torren reached for John's shoulders as John reached him, but John was getting used to the move. He lifted his own hands to Torren's very well dressed shoulders and leant his head forward to briefly touch his forehead against Torren's broad warm forehead.

"Thank you, Leader Torren," John said formally as he stepped back a fraction from Torren, only for Zabetha to step forward.

"I greet you, Honoured Brother," she announced as she reached for his shoulders in turn.

John repeated the Athosian forehead touch thing again, the move also becoming familiar with Teyla's sister.

"Honoured Sister," John guessed he should reply.

"You have met my Husband, Rhakshar," Zabetha added as she stepped aside.

John had met Rhakshar a good few times now, though not for any lengthy conversations. "Yes, of course," he smiled at the man, only for Rhakshar to lift his hands to John's shoulders to initiate the Athosian forehead touch. "Oh, okay," John uttered as he shared what felt like a rather intimate greeting with a man he barely knew.

"Major Sheppard, I am honoured to finally spend time in your presence," Rhakshar smiled as he stepped back.

"Same here," John replied awkwardly.

"John, you of course also know our former High Councillor, Charin," Torren put in next.

John turned to the elderly lady on Torren's other side, and moved towards her quickly so she didn't have to move too far.

"Welcome, Major Sheppard," Charin smiled as she laid her delicate hands on his shoulders.

As always, John was very careful as he placed his hands on her frail looking shoulders, and gently touched his forehead to hers.

"I hope you do not mind my being here for this meal," Charin told him as they parted foreheads. "Though not strictly a part of this honoured family-"

"You _are_ part of this family," Torren interrupted, "if not by blood but by love and history."

Charin smiled at Torren next to her and then almost rolled her eyes at John. John smiled at her as he stepped back.

"Sheppard!" Elkaska stepped forward without introduction and held his hands up and out. For a second John thought Teyla's Uncle was going to hug him, but the man's hands landed on John's shoulders.

John hadn't exchanged the forehead touch thing with Elkaska before, but was willing enough and pleased the guy was here. He was the easiest of Teyla's family to chat with at these official things.

"Honoured Uncle," John guessed he should call Elkaska.

Elkaska beamed as their foreheads parted and the man squeezed John's shoulders hard and with a little shake. "I am glad you are here. I made sure they cooked the same sweet grain pudding with Rillaton that I remember you loved so much from Zabetha's wedding banquet."

John grinned, remembering when he and Teyla had sat with Elkaska during that banquet and the sticky sweet pudding he'd enjoyed. It felt a lifetime ago. "Thanks-" John started, but he heard the main lobby doors open behind Elkaska's shoulder and instantly snapped his attention to them.

As he had so quickly anticipated, Teyla appeared through the opened doors, striding into the lobby and back into his life.

The familiar sensation eased in John's chest the instant he saw her, as if he had been holding his breath all the way here, all the time they were apart. Now, it relaxed at seeing her alive and strong, and as beautiful as ever.

She stopped as she arrived into the room, pausing for the briefest of seconds as her gaze swept the lobby. He was used to her doing this, had seen the other Elite do the same. He imagined her brain registering every detail of who stood where, checking all the exits, and noting any potential threats. He never minded waiting that extra beat for her attention, for once she settled her gaze he would have her full attention.

"Honoured Daughter," Torren's voice stated from somewhere off behind John, but John's entire attention was on Teyla as she finished her room scan and her dark eyes finally met his.

And she smiled.

A proper smile, not one of the tense smiles during their more 'unhappy' encounters of late.

She moved towards him, lifting her hands up towards his shoulders.

He didn't wait for her to reach him and instead moved towards her to meet her halfway and step into her raised hands, whilst he settled his own hands on her strong elegant shoulders.

"Forgive my tardiness," she offered. "I needed to complete a link call from the Training Facility," she explained as she leant in towards him.

He dropped his head and touched his forehead against hers, the touch warm and slightly ticklish with her hair. She had her hair down today, not braided back, and the tendrils settled to frame her face as they parted foreheads.

"That's okay, plenty of people to say hello to," he smiled, holding her eyes, feeling desperate relief that things felt okay between them. There wasn't the heat of before, but instead that new...openness he remembered now from the Sythus. "Everything okay in the Facility?" He checked, feeling he should say something with everyone watching.

"Everything is fine," she replied as her hands slid from his shoulders.

He hadn't realised they'd still been holding each other's shoulders. He reluctantly slid his own hands off her warm shoulders. She was wearing a nice Athosian style top today, the delicate, brightly coloured material very flattering against her golden skin.

"Has everything settled in Atlantis?" She asked with a slight frown. "I have been concerned."

She had?

"Everything's okay," John assured her, but he could hear his own lie in the reassurance he tried to give her. Even though the repair work was complete in Atlantis following the explosion, he was still worried about Carson.

She frowned slightly, but nodded, accepting his answer. He wondered if her answer about the Facility had been equally lacking in detail. They'd agreed that there had to be secrets from each other when it came to their own people and security, but it was another sudden little reminder of the difficulties, the distances, even minor.

But, he smiled at her, ignoring that niggle. He was here to have lunch with her and her family. Which reminded him...

He glanced over his shoulder, to find all of Teyla's family stood together watching them, all smiling a little too brightly.

He looked back round to Teyla, catching the end of her pointed glare at her family.

Yeah, any doubt that her family knew how 'personal' things had been between him and Teyla was washed away.

He winced at Teyla. "And I was worried this was going to be awkward."

00000  
TBC


	15. The Forging of New Ties

000000

 **Chapter 15 – The Forging of New Ties**

 _Just Outside Alliance Territory_

Long Sleep strode down the crowded corridor and into the waiting fighter bay. Warriors from the Hive had been sent over to assess his gathering's Cruisers, and already new supplies and organic supplements were being delivered, both for the ships and for the crew.

Long Sleep hadn't fed for many days now and his feeding hand itched at the knowledge that food was now being delivered aboard, but he would have wait until he returned from the Hive.

Entering into the fighter bay, he saw that he had timed his arrival perfectly; the Hive's latest transport ship was sliding into the bay, turning and settling down in the middle of the crowded bay. With all the extra fighters taken onboard following the destruction at the previous Queens' Gathering, the bay was filled far past capacity, but space had been found for the new supplies and the scheduled transport.

A transport that would take Long Sleep, and all the other 'leaders' of the new ships arriving by the hour, across to the new Hive. To be granted an invitation to be in the Queen's presence was a great honour, and Long Sleep knew he had his gathering's support behind him to pledge them all to their new Queen's service.

If he focused, Long Sleep could sense his new Queen's mind out beyond the ship's hull. Her blazing presence, not even properly focused on him, was a balm that eased every one of his former concerns.

Her mind was extraordinarily powerful, especially for such a young Queen, at least according to the warrior who had greeted them into the sector.

Her power gave Long Sleep great hope, as did the anticipation of the promise of being part of a counter-strike into the heart of the enemy. He did not know his new Queen's plan, but he could feel the boiling common purpose among all the minds circling through and around the Hive. They might be a mixture of lineages and experience, but all the warriors and drones all combined into a powerful force.

The Armoured Herd would pay for that they had done, and Long Sleep would see personal revenge for his lost Queen.

The transport fighter's side entrance opened, the tendrils of hull and thick inner lining sliding aside to reveal a warrior - the same strong-faced warrior from the communication earlier.

Long Sleep strode forward to greet the warrior, who moved slowly out of the transport, his sharp yellow eyes taking in the bay around him.

"You amassed a strong number of extra fighters," the warrior stated as Long Sleep approached.

"The other Cruisers in our gathering have just as full bays," Long Sleep informed him.

"I saw the scans and your testimony," the warrior replied, his bodymass heavy with his lineage's strength, but Long Sleep assessed a somewhat dominant mind as well.

"Of course," Long Sleep replied, choosing to play the appropriate role of lesser warrior in his new Hive's hierarchy.

"I am the Hive Primary," the warrior stated, confirming Long Sleep's suspicions as to why this warrior held himself with such arrogance and power.

Long Sleep inclined his head. "We are honoured that our Great Queen has sent her Primary to visit us."

"I am here to assess and bring all the new Cruiser leaders to the Hive," the Primary reiterated. No doubt this personal visit by the Primary also provided him the opportunity to make his status clear upon those he decided to bring to his Queen. Primaries, especially of new Hives, frequently had to deal with challenges to their powerful position as often other warriors believed they could do a better job serving their Queen.

Long Sleep had no interest in taking the Primary's role; however, the Primary seemed less certain of that fact. The Primary's yellow stare continued in silence, and a frown creased his features. Long Sleep knew why, for most warriors could feel how unusual his mind was, how fast his thoughts were due to his mutation.

Long Sleep held the Primary's gaze, keeping his own gaze relaxed and non-threatening, but also holding his space physically and mentally. He was used to being treated poorly by new warriors, but hopefully this new Great Queen would appreciate his fast mind as his previous two Queens had done.

The Primary shifted his gaze away from Long Sleep, seemingly satisfied enough. "This ship has stood well," he stated. "Our new Great Queen is pleased with its addition."

A burst of pleasure blossomed in Long Sleep's heart.

"We are ready to serve our new Great Queen," Long Sleep vowed.

The Primary nodded. "She is powerful, like no other Queen before her."

Long Sleep inclined his head. "Her mind is powerful indeed."

"More than you know," the Primary stated. "She is a Queen like none seen before, bred in secret to mix the lineages to create a new dominant lineage."

Long Sleep worked to control his reaction to that bizarre news. "Truly?"

"You will understand, once you feel the true focus of her mind. She alone will have the power to grind the enemy into dust until just the fewest remain in existence to sustain us."

Long Sleep nodded, but the strange concept niggled at him. The Queens had mixed their individual lineages into a new lineage? He had never heard anything like that before. Everything he knew about the genetics of their race told him that the lineages had parted so long ago that they could never be recombined. Could that truly have changed? Of course, it must have, or this new Queen would not exist otherwise.

"Come," the Primary commanded as he turned back into the hatch of the transport. "It is time to greet and pledge to your new Queen."

Long Sleep followed the Primary up into the transport, all while trying to ignore his traitorous fast thoughts that queried at the strange news about his new Queen.

Mix the lineages?

Surely that could not be true.

000000

 _Tjaru, Athos _

It was yet another momentous family event that his Tagan was missing, and that fact pulled at Torren's heart. Each day he missed his Love, but especially during these large life events for their daughters. Within a year, both Zabetha and Teyla had married, which was surprise enough, but both had found very interesting husbands. Most Political Marriages were at best civil, some full of silent conflict in which the couple tolerated each other in their lives in order that their peoples kept political and trading ties. Both Zabetha and Teyla had chosen to marry with that knowledge, but the Ancestors had seen that Torren's daughters were blessed.

It had been clear to all that Zabetha and Rhakshar had been perfect for each other as soon as they had met, and though it had taken time for the marriage to be solidified as Zabetha came to terms with her future without a child of her own, the couple seemed happy with each other. That the marriage took Zabetha away from Athos more than before did weigh on Torren during her absences, but such times were limited, as Rhakshar spent most of his time on Athos. It meant that Torren had an extra family member in his home more often than not, which was very pleasing.

He had no doubt that Tagan would have loved Rhakshar's calm and solid presence. That he brought such bright joyfulness to Zabetha's eyes, just in his presence, warmed Torren deeply to know that his youngest daughter knew true love.

So few found that depth of love, and many lost it, as Torren had with Tagan's passing to the Ancestors, but not a day went by when he wasn't gratefully happy that he had known his Tagan and that they had been blessed with their two daughters. Both girls had grown into confident, intelligent, strong, and beautiful women, and Torren knew Tagan would have beamed with joy to have witnessed it.

No doubt Tagan would have been as surprised as he was that Teyla had elected for a Political Marriage, but she too had found a most unusual of partners.

Major John Sheppard was not only from another galaxy entirely, but he called the fabled City of the Ancestors his home. How amazing it was to sit beside a man from such different stars, but he was just the same as Torren and all the other humans in this galaxy. They were all children of the Ancestors, parted for centuries by the vast distances between galaxies, but now once again in contact.

Teyla had done little in her life that was conventional, and it should have been no surprise really that she had found a husband as unusual as John Sheppard. That fact was not just true in that John was from another galaxy, but his manner and personality would not have been any one's prediction for Teyla's husband.

Of course Torren did not know all the details of Teyla's personal life, but those men he knew she had spent time with in the past, such as Kanaan of their own forest camps, were all very different to John. They had been overtly serious and traditional men, focused on home and hearth, whereas John was obviously a warrior like Teyla, who lived far from his family and home soil, and did not appear to place great emphasis to tradition and orthodox behaviour. Instead, John had struck Torren as being a man who would focus on the moral centre of his actions, and that rules and customs were to be bent to meet that ideal. In that basic fact, John and Teyla seemed to share common ground, but from the outside, they seemed quite different. Where Teyla was often sharply serious, John seemed to naturally see all things with humour, and where Teyla was used to being held in certain esteem as an Elite warrior, John appeared less than comfortable with political attention upon him.

Torren also knew that, having witnessed a very angry argument between the couple, they brought out quite strong emotions in one another. Until that day, Torren had never seen Teyla speak rudely to someone and had not seen her lose her calm centre so dramatically. Afterwards, Torren had rebuked her behaviour, something he had not done since she had been a young child, and Teyla's Elite warrior shell had cracked open and his vulnerable child had confessed her confusion in dealing with her feelings for John Sheppard.

Yet again, one of Torren's daughters had married a man she loved, but where Zabetha had embraced that powerful force, Teyla had appeared to be shying from it. Torren could understand that, given her warrior lifestyle and the steely walls she had built since the loss of her Mother.

Teyla had always seemed to know what to say in any situation, even as a young girl she had always had a good explanation for something she had done wrong, which had made it somewhat difficult at times to rebuke her. Her will had always been strong and impressive, something she had gained from Tagan, but that drive had also taken Teyla away from the family as she had striven to fight the Wraith. She had become a powerful Elite warrior, but it was not very common for Elite to marry, and he could understand her concerns about being in love. For her, unlike Zabetha, she saw love as a potential weakness.

Knowing these greater details about his eldest daughter's heart and soul, Torren had begun to worry of late that perhaps his own prolonged grief for Tagan had not been all that healthy for Teyla to witness. Had he been showing her that heartbreak was all that came from love? Should he had been speaking more of his love of Tagan, rather than speaking only of what Tagan was missing and in dwelling in his own grief too greatly?

Over the years, many of his kind friends, and even Zabetha and Teyla, had expressed concern to him that he had never found another companion, but Torren needed no other woman in his life. His life was full with his work and his family, especially now, but perhaps always being aware of the absence of Tagan had not served Teyla.

However, the fact of life now was that Teyla was married and had a somewhat emotionally complicated relationship with John, and Torren was determined to ensure that they both felt accepted in the family as a married couple. It was important to Torren that Teyla feel comfortable to be the complete person she was when at home – there was no need for her to put up Elite defences here. She was loved and, regardless of occasional arguments and hurt feelings, they were family.

Torren looked round the family table from where he was sat at the head of the table, Zabetha to his left, Rhakshar and then Elkaska to her side; Charin was sat at the other end of the table, perhaps where Tagan would have sat had she been here for this happy event. The other side of the table held only Teyla and John, the couple seemingly comfortable beside each other, but there was a faint tension to them both. Though, they clearly were no longer angry with each other, which was pleasing.

The first course of the meal had been fresh salad and berries, during which the topic of conversation had centred on the trade talks and that apparently Atlantis was very pleased with the goods already traded from Athos. The new fruits, flour, and tava beans were well received it appeared.

The middle course of a large selection of roasted vegetables and tava pottage filled pie was currently being well received around the table, however, Torren was aware that the atmosphere remained not entirely relaxed.

Somewhat surprisingly, Rhakshar had been speaking the most, but then Rhakshar understood what it felt like to be in John's current position. It was pleasing that Rhakshar appeared to be working hard to put John at ease.

"...a tour of the main installation can easily be organised," Rhakshar was currently offering as he finished off the last of his pie.

"I'll definitely mention it to my superiors," John promised to Rhakshar's business family's invitation for Atlantis to view their mining operation. No doubt there would be good trading opportunities between their people.

"My Father," Rhakshar continued across the table, "is very excited to show off the main facility."

"He will no doubt paint the floors green to show those from another galaxy around the place," Zabetha laughed lightly, her elbow pushing against Rhakshar's playfully.

Torren saw John frown. "Paint the floors green?" He asked.

"Green is the colour of celebration for the Xinda," Zabetha informed him, "Rhakshar's people, and his father particularly favours using it. When I first visited the family home with Rhakshar once we had married, the whole of our bedroom had been painted in varying shades of green."

"Green?" John winced.

"It was rather..." Zabetha sought the right word, "um..." she glanced at Rhakshar beside her.

"Vomit inducing?" Elkaska put in.

Charin chuckled from the far end of the table and Torren sent Elkaska a glare, which, as usual, his Brother by Marriage ignored.

"Bright," Zabetha decided upon.

"I can imagine," John smiled.

"We felt as if we were sleeping inside a giant tree or plant," Rhakshar laughed as he set his fork down and wiped his mouth as he and Zabetha shared a smile.

"Do your people have such practices, John?" Zabetha asked with her usual social ease.

"No one will be painting Teyla's room in Atlantis green, I can promise you that," John reported, turning to smile at Teyla on his right.

"I am very pleased to hear that," Teyla replied as he glanced at him from her food, her smile small, but very honest. Even without complete ease between her and John, she still appeared more relaxed with him than with anyone else outside of family or her Elite friends. That had to be a good sign.

John looked back to Zabetha as if conscious about how long he looked at Teyla. "My people sometimes lay out red carpet for visiting dignitaries," he told Zabetha, which Torren decided to remember for later. He was almost certain there were strips of red carpet in storage; he would remember to mention it to Hakon.

"But, there's various different traditions across Earth," John added.

"I understand that your planet divides up its regions into 'countries', and that each are independently governed?" Charin asked from the far end of the table.

"That's right," John replied as he sipped from his cup of spring water.

"How many of these 'countries' are there?" Rhakshar asked.

"Um, around two hundred," John answered, which was a fact Torren recalled from the information supplied by Mr Woolsey and Colonel Carter. Torren in turn had supplied them with a general history of Athos and her colony planets.

"I understand you are from the country known as 'The United States'?" Torren asked John.

"That's me," John replied with another slightly tense smile.

"Are all of your family from that country?" Torren asked. He had quizzed Mr Woolsey on the social structure of Earth on several occasions, but had been reading Mr Woolsey's reports in greater detail in preparation for this meal. It was important that he understand his new Son by Marriage's life and extended family position, and that any information he shared with those in the Alliance was accurate. After all he did not want to misrepresent his new extended family from another galaxy.

"Most of them, yes," John replied.

"So, people do cross between the countries?" Rhakshar asked as if pleased with the answer.

"All the time," John replied. "There's constant movement of people across Earth, we can travel anywhere on the planet within a day by air or longer by sea."

Everyone around the table nodded, impressed.

"How often do you get to return home to Earth?" Charin asked, though Torren was certain she had asked that same question before. It was become more common for Charin to repeat questions, but that was said to be normal for those of advanced years. One area that Torren knew Atlantis could offer with their medical knowledge was in care of the elderly, as until the recent days of the Alliance, it had been extremely rare for anyone to live even close to Charin's age. A whole generation across the Alliance were now older than any of their ancestors before them, and certain illnesses and memory issues were becoming apparent across that generation. John's people had experience in such knowledge and medicine, and Torren had already discussed such exchange of knowledge via Mr Woolsey.

"Not all that often," John replied as he set his water down and picked up his fork once more, his eyes faintly downward. Did he miss his family and his world?

"I imagine your family must be very pleased when you are able to visit them," Torren stated.

"I don't have all that much family," John replied, his expression closed.

"We are sorry to hear that," Zabetha offered. "Teyla mentioned to me that, like us, you also lost your Mother when you were younger."

John nodded, but at his side Teyla was frowning across the table at her sister, likely at the somewhat solemn turn of the conversation.

"Your Father must be very proud of your accomplishments," Torren told his Son by Marriage, hoping to smooth the grief they had likely caused John with reference to his Mother. Only, Teyla now turned her glare on Torren at what had seemed an innocent and supportive comment.

John looked up from his meal, his expression clearly controlled as he shifted in his seat. "Actually, I haven't seen my Dad for years." He took a breath, clearly uncomfortable and Torren regretted bringing up the subject. "We don't see eye-to-eye on things," John summarised, somewhat cryptically.

Torren had to wonder what Father would not be proud of this man, but clearly something had happened to put significant distance between the two men.

John glanced faintly aside and then back down to his food, silence falling momentarily, and Teyla's glare deepened at Torren.

"Then, your Father is the one who is at a loss not to know such a successful and noble son," Torren offered John, hoping his words would convey his apology and his own acceptance of his new Son by Marriage.

John glanced back round, a smile pulling at his lips and he nodded. "Thanks," he replied, though still seemed uncomfortable.

"Zabetha," Teyla stated quickly, forcing the conversation elsewhere, "how are the plans for the latest hospital extension? I believe John's people will be visiting it soon?"

"Yes," Zabetha replied, jumping quickly onto the new topic, "matters are proceeding well. The new research extension will have areas dedicated to sharing medical knowledge now outside of the Alliance. We are very much looking forward to sharing medical knowledge with your people," she smiled warmly at John.

"Dr Keller's looking forward to it," John replied, clearly happy at the change in subject himself. "She's a great doctor and we're happy there's something we can offer you guys straight away for all your help."

"I hope that Dr Beckett will be well enough to visit soon," Teyla put in, seeming keen now to play an active role in the conversation.

John turned to her, his expression out of Torren's view. "It might be a while yet," he offered and Torren saw Teyla frown at either the comment or something she saw in John's expression.

She frowned. "I understood that Dr Beckett is healing well," she asked, her voice lowering slightly.

"Your Healer is great," John reassured her immediately, "he's getting better," but even Torren could hear that there was more to John's answer. "I'll tell him you've invited him, it'll probably help him to have something to look forward to."

"And I believe he's the one who came up with your viral weapon against the Wraith," Elkaska abruptly added into the conversation, all eyes sweeping round to him.

"That is classified information, Uncle," Teyla stressed quickly across the table.

"It is hardly hidden knowledge, Teyla," Charin added.

"Perhaps we could talk about something else," Teyla stated politely but forcefully.

The meal was not going as well as Torren had hoped.

Ketra's head suddenly came into view at Teyla's side, as usual drawn in by her sensitivity to Teyla's mood. Teyla set a utensil down on her plate and automatically settled her hand on Ketra's head, stroking and soothing both herself and Ketra.

"We could talk about trade," Elkaska suggested, and the rest of the family all groaned.

"There are other subjects other than trade, Uncle," Zabetha replied with a smile.

"True, but not as interesting," Elkaska replied. "After our meal I have some excellent tea that I traded for recently, John. It is some of the very best available and I hope you enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will," John smiled back as he finished off the last of his pottage pie. As always, John cleared most of his plate, which pleased Torren. At least John was enjoying the food.

"I would tell you the tale as to how I found that particular type of tea," Elkaska continued, "but it is 'classified'," he said pointedly across the table to Teyla.

Teyla signed at the retaliation, but she was smiling.

"Then there's the story behind the wedding gift I have given you and Teyla," Elkaska added.

"Uncle," Teyla warned.

"You'll see it later," Elkaska assured John. "Teyla will show you."

Teyla glared across the table at Elkaska and Torren wished that Tagan was here, as she would have happily kicked her Brother's shin under the table for such behaviour.

Torren glanced at John, hoping he had not be offended, but then perhaps he did not yet know about the wedding bed that Elkaska had gifted to the couple.

"You didn't have to, Elkaska," John replied politely, and clearly unaware of the nature of the actual gift. "But thank you."

"You'll get used to Elkaska's sense of humour," Rhakshar told John over the table.

"John's already used to me," Elkaska disagreed. "After all we sat together at your and Zabetha's wedding banquet."

Torren spotted that Ketra's snout was now sniffing along the far end of the table, moving slowly but steadily towards where Charin's plate was waiting to be collected up.

"That was some good food," John agreed with Elkaska, "Not that this isn't great," he quickly added towards Torren as he pointed to his plate.

Torren smiled reassuringly towards John.

"This is great," John stressed and then seemed to wince at himself and glanced away at Teyla and then back to his now empty plate.

At the far end of the table, Charin's elderly hand touched against the top of Ketra's head, gently halting the imminent stealing of her leftover food.

"Ketra," Teyla, having noticed, told off her pet. Ketra lowered her head immediately from view and slinked away, no doubt heading back to her bed beside Umo across the room.

Except, Ketra appeared around the back of John's chair, slinking up to his side.

"At least her obsession with eating blossoms has passed," Charin chuckled to Teyla. "Mino appears to have now relaxed her guard when you and Ketra are staying."

Torren however was watching as Ketra touched her snout to John's arm, drawing his attention down to her. John relaxed his elbow over the arm of his chair and rubbed his hand across Ketra's head and around one ear with clear familiarity and affection.

Torren watched Ketra's responsive skin colour shift into colourful bright silver, a sign of her happiness.

It had been clear to Torren before now that Ketra liked John, but he'd never seen Ketra approach anyone other than family for affection and reassurance after Teyla had told her off.

"She likes you," Torren remarked to John as the others continued their conversation at the other end of the table.

John glanced round and smiled, and it was his first proper relaxed smile of the day. "She's great," John smiled as he stroked down Ketra's back. "Though she didn't like me all that much when we first met."

"She is often suspicious of new people," Torren replied, grateful for the easier conversation.

"Actually, she only started to like me after a battle with the Wraith..." John paused, likely concerned that he might not be allowed to speak of such things here.

"Perhaps she is like the Elite she usually lives among," Torren shared his theory. "They only accept those who can hold their own in battle."

John grinned as he nodded his agreement; Torren was pleased that the comment, even though it was somewhat at the sake of Teyla's honoured colleagues, had been well received.

"Not sure I did all that well in that fight," John added. "Ketra saved me from a Wraith in the end."

Torren glanced down at Ketra with new interest. Ketra's species was said to fight Wraith, and Teyla had confirmed it without detail. But, to know that Ketra had saved John from a Wraith...it was impressive and interesting.

"After that fight, Ketra just started liking me," John continued as he scratched around one silver dragon ear.

"You are of a select group then," Torren informed him. "She does not accept many as she clearly does of you."

Similar, in fact, to Teyla.

Torren considered John a little more closely. "Perhaps," he suggested, "she was jealous of you at first."

John met his gaze. "Jealous?" He frowned. "I don't know. I met Ketra after Teyla had just saved my ass and I was stuck as a third wheel on the Sythus at the time. I wasn't exactly all that threatening."

"Maybe Ketra thought you were Teyla's new pet?" Elkaska put in from the other end of the table, displaying his excellent hearing.

" _Uncle_!" Teyla admonished him quickly.

"As I recall when I first met you at that time," Elkaska continued to John without care, "you were Teyla's slave. How did that happen exactly? I remember you looked quite dishevelled at the time."

Torren winced inwardly and outwardly at his Brother by Marriage's behaviour.

"Uncle," Teyla objected again.

But John was smiling, seemingly comfortable enough with Elkaska's brashness.

"You were Teyla's slave?" Rhakshar asked in bewilderment, apparently not having heard that detail before now. Only he realised a beat later that he had referred to Teyla by her given name and not by her Elite rank, as was traditional when with people outside of the family. Rhakshar, always one to keep close to such respectful traditions, abruptly looked to Teyla with concern. "Honoured Elite Emmagan," he quickly corrected.

Despite the more relaxed relationship between Teyla and Rhakshar of late, Rhakshar was still overly cautious in her presence.

"It is fine, Brother," Teyla assured Rhakshar. "You do not have to call me that here with John."

Rhakshar smiled and nodded, but it remained overly polite for the family atmosphere.

Silence fell with the sudden reminder of Teyla's life outside the family.

"I had fallen down a pit," John abruptly supplied into the slightly uncomfortable silence, drawing all attention to him. "Just _please_ don't tell anyone else. Some slave traders had dug out the pit to catch idiots like me who weren't looking where they were going and they sold me into the Alliance."

Torren was surprised at the sudden turn to John's behaviour, where before he had seemed withdrawn but polite, but now was purposefully putting himself front and centre, even sharing what was clearly an embarrassing tale for him.

It seemed that it was not only Teyla who was protective of John today, but John had now stepped in to soothe a moment for her.

"Why did your people not save you?" Charin asked.

"It was during a mission to help evac a town near the Gate, the Portal, but the Wraith turned up early and started culling," John explained. "Unfortunately, by the time my people were free to look for me I'd been taken off world. I was taken to an Alliance space station and shoved in a slaver's cage."

"A despicable trade," Charin muttered and everyone nodded their agreement.

"I put up a good fight though," John continued, getting into the tale. "The trader there didn't like me. I was there a few hours maybe before I spotted Teyla in the crowd. We'd actually run into each other a couple of times before, but they had always been real short and in the middle of a fight." He smiled around towards Teyla.

Ketra had slipped away from John's side and was now back round beside Teyla. Teyla looked up from stroking Ketra's silver ears and smiled at John, her expression open and relaxed in hearing the story retold.

"How typical of you to meet your future husband in a fight," Zabetha commented.

Teyla shrugged one shoulder with a smile, such events as battling Wraith so commonplace for her.

"She wasn't fighting you, was she?" Elkaska asked John.

So easily the atmosphere had turned towards humour from tension.

"No," John reported with a chuckle. "Actually, the first time we met, I was pinned to a table by a Wraith about to kill me, when Teyla came smashing in through the ceiling and took out the Wraith." He sliced his hand through the air with clear indication as to how Teyla had stopped the Wraith in question.

It was another stark reminder of how different and dangerous Teyla's life was outside of family and trade. One that felt so far removed from the Teyla that Torren saw at his table. However, as strange and alien such dangers were to Torren, it clearly was not to John. John appeared at ease in the telling of such a dramatic tale, perhaps as 'normal' for him as it was for Teyla.

"What happened next?" Zabetha asked, everyone listening with rapt attention. Stories of battle were not normally told in the family, as they all kept away from such reminders of Teyla's potentially fatal work beyond Athos.

John glanced at Teyla beside him with a smile. "She just ran off, after completing an acrobatic flippy somersaulty thing off the end of the table first."

Teyla gave him a look at his obvious teasing, a look that Torren had never seen her give anyone outside of family.

"It was an efficient dismount," Teyla replied.

"You were showing off," John responded.

There was a shift from the left side of the table, Zabetha and Rhakshar never having heard anyone speak back to Teyla that way before. No one spoke to an Elite that way in their experience, and certainly never to Teyla.

"I was not showing off," Teyla objected, but she wasn't angry at John's comment, in fact she was smiling at him.

"You could have just jumped down off the table," John suggested.

"My way was quicker, it kept me in motion," she argued. "And I had only seen you for a split second, so there was no need to 'show off' to you."

"But, you did," John pushed with a smile as he reached for his water.

Torren glanced away from the couple, emotion welling up in his chest. Teyla could live such a lovely life, happy and married here on Athos and Atlantis, if only she would give up the dangerous life she lived. He knew she never would, but he still hoped. The connection she seemed to share with John was real and obvious today, and it made Torren happy but also sad to think of the life she could lead if she were not so always in danger.

"When I found him in that slaver's cage," Teyla turned to the rest of the table, "he was caked in dried mud, sat on his backside and looking very sullen."

"And you rescued him," Zabetha smiled.

"Very romantic," Elkaska added.

"I recognised his uniform," Teyla corrected, "and saw an opportunity."

"An opportunity that has favoured all of us," Torren put in. "It appears that the Ancestors work in mysterious ways indeed."

"That they do," Charin was the only one to agree from the far end of the table.

"I would have preferred they do it without me having to fall down a pit," John muttered and the others laughed with him.

"Do not worry, John," Torren leant forward. "We will not tell anyone else what happened to you, it will be a family secret."

John smiled, "Thanks."

However, it was Teyla that continued to chuckle at John's side and John looked round at her.

"You're never going to let me forget that are you," he stated with a tone that spoke volumes of how close the two were.

Teyla lifted her dark eyes up from Ketra to John and smiled. It was a wide and happy smile. "No," she confirmed.

Elkaska laughed. "You are so like your mother some days."

"Tagan?" John checked the name, his pronunciation perfect.

The fact that John recalled Tagan's name meant a great deal to Torren in that moment. He had no doubt that she would have happily welcomed John into the family.

"Yes, she was called Tagan," Torren confirmed. "And she was a wonderful woman."

"How did you two meet?" John asked, seeming honestly interested. People did not often speak of Tagan to Torren, and it was refreshing and pleasing to be asked about her now by the Son by Marriage that she would have loved.

Torren reached out and triggered the call for the assistants to return and clear the table ready for the next course.

"It is an interesting tale if you would like to hear it," he replied and John nodded, appearing truly interested. "And perhaps even a few tales of my beloved daughters and their mother."

"I would love to hear them," John smiled and then leant towards Torren slightly. "If you can remember any stories where a young Teyla might have fallen down a muddy hole, it would really help me."

Elkaska laughed boisterously from the far corner of the table.

Torren smiled at John as the assistants entered, seeing relief in the man's expression that his comment hadn't been poorly received.

This was hardly the standard polite political affair that such a First Family Meal should be, but it was perhaps far healthier. Torren had no doubt that, had Teyla selected General Maloo as her Political Husband, this meal would have been very different. Instead, it felt as if John were a proper member of the family, not just a Political Husband they respected. There would be many days ahead to allow John to completely relax with them and feel part of the family, but today had been a good start.

As the sticky pleasing sweet dessert was placed before everyone, Torren let his memories flow forward.

"I should start my story a few years before I first spoke to Tagan," he began, aware that all ears and eyes were on him.

Tagan could not be with the family physically today, but he could speak of her and bring her back to be with them in the telling of their shared life.

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TBC


	16. The Flush of Freedom

**Note:** A special thank you to Nath, Jessie, and Guest64, who have all been kindly reviewing my work, but because they are shown as a "Guest" I can't reply to them directly via the website. But, thank you so much guys and I'm so pleased you're enjoying the Alliance story. Also a shout out to Camy – hope you're well, Luv.

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 _ **Chapter 16 – The Flush of Freedom**_

 _Elite Training Facility_

Freedom suited Raven.

In the past short weeks since he'd last seen her, her cheeks had filled out slightly with improved nutrition and she seemed to hold herself with a new sense of relaxed confidence. There was a new flush of health to her skin and a brightness to her eyes that he couldn't remember being there before.

That the Facility suited her was good, because he'd worried that the "incident" with the Recruits, and the tension that had built up to it, might have angered her enough to think about leaving her new job in the Facility. She had the right to pack up her things and leave, free to go anywhere she wanted now, but a niggling concern played at his thoughts that without the position at the Facility that she might end up working with the wrong type of people again.

That she had been attacked whilst living and working with the 'right' sort of people could have convinced her that there wasn't that much difference between those on Dreamstation and those training to be Elite. Oneakka believed that wasn't true to the depths of his being, but he didn't really have the evidence on his side in this particular case, and that annoyed him.

And it worried him about the nature of honour among those living all too peacefully inside well defended borders. These Recruits were too young to remember living under the constant threat of the Wraith. These young adults had not had to face the prejudice and abuse that Seeal had faced from human races, let along the Wraith cullings she had survived as a child. And they thought themselves better than her.

It angered him that in coming to live somewhere 'safe', she had once again faced exclusion and aggression from her own species, who should all work together for the common good.

With that truth playing in his mind, Oneakka had sought her out in the Facility, finally ready to face the obvious fact that he had been avoiding her.

 _Not_ hiding from her.

Just avoiding her.

And Pampata was right: he didn't run from anything.

So it had been time to face Seeal once again, to face the strange unexpected connection he felt with an ex-criminal female who would likely happily argue that suns didn't emit light if it suited her to do so.

As annoying as she could be, she had played on his mind constantly since they had parted ways on the Sythus, and though he had told himself he would not see her again at that time, it had clearly been a lie.

A lie to make himself feel better about the life he lived and the things he didn't, and couldn't, have in it.

Like a life Massa had joked about – a cabbage farmer with a pretty wife and children running around. The idea was ridiculous to Oneakka, but he was intelligent and honest enough with himself to know that, had he been inclined to live that sort of life, he might behave quite differently with Seeal. His Raven might indeed be the kind of woman he would be honoured to work with and face the difficulties of life alongside. She was strong, intelligent, beautiful, and determined – he could not think of anything more he admired in a woman.

But, that was not something for him. He would never live that life and he had long ago accepted that. That Seeal was the first woman to truly tempt him to think otherwise was only testing his resolve and career.

He was an Elite warrior, and he had nothing in his life that he could not afford to lose. Those he was closest to were fellow Elite warriors, and he had seen many of them fall. As much as he cared for his colleagues and friends, he knew he could lose any of them at any time. But, they were warriors and knew the risk, accepted the truth of it, as he did. Feelings and distractions were for civilians who could afford to have such luxuries, but he would not go through what he had done when he had been a young man.

There was no place left in his broken and orphaned heart.

But, he was no coward either and he would not allow such emotion to stop him from checking on Seeal, showing the Facility as a whole that she was trusted, and also to prove Massa wrong in his teasing implications.

Nothing happened that Oneakka couldn't deal with, and if he couldn't, he'd find a way.

He was an Elite.

So, mind and heart determined, he had walked into the gym, ready to face her and prove so much to himself and others.

Only, as usual, he hadn't found Seeal behaving like the quiet civilian she was supposed to be now; the woman couldn't do anything so normal. No, she'd been tearing her way up the highest climbing rope at a ridiculous speed. She had been climbing as if she had been attacking the rope, her lungs visibly working hard, her entire body straining and powering up the ever increasing vast height. If she'd fallen and missed the crash mat, which was easy to do, the impact would have killed her.

He had watched plenty of Recruits and Elite climb, or attempt to climb, that rope over the years, but he'd never experienced the fearful drop in his stomach as he had in watching her climb so high. He had made it to the bottom of the rope in quick time, positioning himself so that if she had fallen he could catch her, if it would make that much difference when falling from so high.

But, she hadn't fallen. She powered up the rope like it was the answer to everything and, once at the top, she had held still, the rope still moving faintly from her fast ascent. He'd stood looking up at her, the height so great that he hadn't been able see her face, but he could recognise fear when he saw it. Her body had been practically wrapped around the top of the rope, just below the large clip that held it to the high ceiling, and she hadn't shown any signs of coming back down again anytime soon. Most people who reached the top started their descent reasonably quickly, as by that point muscles were hurting and shaking and sweat was compromising grip.

But, Seeal hadn't, she'd held on, resting yes, but also appearing as if she was purposefully staying there, her lungs still working hard. He suspected he knew the reason why.

Only a few weeks ago she had faced a similar situation, hanging high up over a fatal drop that would have taken her through the gaping open side of the Sythus and into the vacuum of space. That fall would have killed her without doubt, but also the robot that had been hanging onto her as its only salvation. Knowing that fact, and the damage the robot would likely have done to the Sythus had it successfully used her as a ladder back up into the ship, she had done the only thing she could to stop it. She had purposefully let go and surrendered herself to the fall and her death in order to take the robot with her.

Oneakka had not only witnessed that act, but had seen the moment prior when she had closed her eyes in peaceful surrender before she had purposefully released her grip on life. It had been an expression he had witnessed on far too many others preceding a heroic, yet fatal, act. Fortunately, he had been able to catch Seeal in time, preventing her sacrifice, but if he hadn't been there, she would have died. That fact, along with having faced the moment of purposefully surrendering one's life, would have been playing in Seeal's mind since. He suspected it had been that fact that had been behind her tight clinging to the very top of the highest rope.

So, he had reached for the rope and had gently sent a ripple of motion up its length. He had watched as the ripple transferred up to her, challenging her grip and the fear she had been facing.

It had worked too – she'd held on easily and all the fear had morphed instantly into anger directed down at him. Her being cross with him was usual enough and far better than her feeling afraid. He'd rippled the rope one more time, proving her strength to her.

Only she had then turned the tables on him and he'd been the one fearfully watching as she had descended the rope in the most insane way he could imagine. He had watched in horror as she'd somehow back-flipped her way down the rope as if she weighed nothing and didn't fear for her own neck. Within heart stopping seconds she had made it down to just above his head, where she had climbed down the final distance to settle into a deep crouch on the rope at his shoulder as if she truly were some ethereal raven in human form.

Holding the rope just below her where her bare feet had held securely onto the rope, he had been able to feel the faint warmth of her soles and smell the delicate aroma from her warmed body. And she'd greeted him casually, as if she hadn't just defied gravity and they hadn't seen each other for weeks.

Any foolish attempt to cling to the faint hope that the draw he felt towards her had been merely imagined, or simply a result of how much time they had spent in each other's company onboard the Sythus, had evaporated.

That electricity between them had been there instantly and he couldn't deny the response of his own body to her.

But beyond the physical reaction to her presence, he'd been aware of a real burst of happiness to see her again, to look into her dark eyes and fall into the banter of before as if they had only seen each other yesterday. Only that banter had felt different; where before it had been irritating and pushing him into arguments, now it was clearly enjoyable verbal sparring. He had always enjoyed physical sparring in his training and over the years had sparred with thousands of people, even with one or two lovers who had been warriors, but he'd never before experienced this strangely addictive verbal sparring.

However, that didn't mean that anything had changed. He wasn't about to get pulled into her feminine allure, and she didn't seem receptive to anything more than the friendly competitiveness they fell back into so easily.

Not that he hadn't picked up on the way her gaze had shifted over him, or the flirtatious light to her eyes, but, like him, she appeared to accept this new shift but only to a point.

They were both now aware that there was an attraction between them, but there would be no more. Without discussion, a new line had been drawn between them; closer than before, but not too close.

She'd challenged that line briefly when he'd teased her about her accidently taking his shirt. He had known she hadn't stolen the shirt on purpose because he'd seen her packing her things back on the Sythus; She'd been completely distracted with the news that she had gained her clean record and had a new job in the Training Facility. It had been a good way to wind her up, only then she'd implied that she might have been wearing the shirt recently. The idea of his former shirt now smelling of her had made him insist that she keep it – he didn't need to have that shirt in his home.

The line quickly skirted, he'd persuaded her to help him with the research dead-ends that had stumped Robiah, which hadn't been all that difficult; Her distaste for Robiah had driven her to not only agree to help, but rather than simply pointing out what avenues Division could take, she'd wanted to do the research herself.

And somehow he had ended up helping, which had resulted in them setting up a table in the canteen closest to the living sector of the Facility and spending hours looking through the research and following new leads she suggested.

But it was boring work. He knew research was a vital part of a warrior's job, and he loved reading, but not going through pages and pages of shipping manifests, link communication records, company details, client lists, and random documents that seemed to hold nothing but empty boring details.

He sighed heavily at the electronic pad currently in his hand, which was one of several stacked along the table at which he sat with Seeal. Beside him, she had three tablet pads running simultaneous searches, the screens delicately balanced against the table's edge with her knees as she worked.

They had been working for hours and it seemed that all their work had yielded nothing useful.

The current display on his pad's screen showed the client list of an Alliance accountancy firm. He'd read through pages and pages of names and none of them jumped out as interesting in any way. It felt like a waste of his time, and, if he'd been working with anyone else, he knew he would have walked out hours ago. He would have left them to do the research, gotten on with his life, and trusted them to send him details of any fruitful conclusions to the research.

But no, here he was, sat with Seeal at the edge of the mostly empty canteen, boring himself to death.

But, sitting beside her, working with her, looking for opportunities to win a round of verbal sparring, seemed a good enough payoff to stay.

Because when would he get to do this again?

He might have no interest in pursuing Seeal romantically, but he honestly liked her company and part of him stubbornly wanted to stay with her today.

Besides, there was the military event this evening, so why not fill his time until then with her?

Except the hours of research was fast pushing him to his patience tolerance point.

He sighed again as he blinked heavily to persuade his eyes to stay focused on the names.

"You keep doing that. Are you bored or are you having trouble breathing properly?" Seeal asked from his right.

He gave her a glare, but her attention was focused on her work; apparently having no trouble in finding the hours of research engaging.

"I can breathe fine," he replied.

"Then you're bored," she concluded as she tapped on one of her three balanced tablets. "Honestly, I thought Elite had better stamina."

He decided to avoid that one by sighing heavily again and this time she looked up and around with a glare of her own.

"Think of the sighing as a release valve," he told her as he tapped onto the next page of client names on his pad.

"And what would happen if you didn't have that release valve?" She asked with what sounded like honest interest.

"I'd kill someone," he exaggerated.

"Wow, and all over an accountancy firm's client list."

"Because we've found nothing and it's been hours," he complained.

"We've found plenty," she objected looking up from her multi tablet configuration. "Certainly more than Robiah did," she added, pronouncing Robiah's name as if it was an insult.

"None of it has been even close to useful yet," Oneakka pointed out.

She scoffed in disbelief. "See, no stamina," she complained, but her expression was bright and playful. Between the gym and meeting him here in the canteen she'd gone back to her quarters, showered and changed her clothes. He could still smell the spicy flowery smell from her shower lingering around her.

She wore a tight long sleeved top that he remembered her wearing back on the Sythus. The material was a merging mix of varying shades of dark green and the lines of the flowing colours was very flattering on the shape of her upper body. She had definitely added some new muscle to her shoulders and upper arms. He wondered if that was just from climbing, or had she been purposefully building her upper body; maybe in another attempt to defy the lingering memories of her battle with the robot.

"We haven't found anything new," he refined his answer.

"Two of the names Robiah couldn't do anything with led to the shipping company," she indicated one of the pads where she had recorded those details, "which flagged up a few names I recognised, one of which led to that accountancy firm's client list," she indicated his pad. It was an overly abridged version of many hours of work.

"There's nothing in these accountancy lists that's useful," he argued.

She leant her shoulder faintly against his as she leant in to look at the screen of his pad. "You're only on page 47 of 81. Who knows who you could find on the next 34 pages," she said with a smug smile as she sat back.

He still gave her a look, but she simply focused on her work as if she were truly enjoying this prolonged boring work.

"Sometimes it's just the one small detail that gets the criminal," she muttered as she switched her focus between her three screens.

"Like when we caught you," he baited, pleased at the opportunity she had given him.

As expected, she took immediate offence. "What small detail was that exactly?" She demanded.

"Ulfur," he delivered with irrefutable logic.

She shut her mouth, holding in the denials she no doubt had ready. He was right, of course, if Ulfur hadn't fallen into Robiah's hands and revealed the family link, she would never have been blackmailed into working for Robiah to eventually be caught by the Elite.

"Damn my Brother," she cursed as she focused back on her work. "He's been nothing but a bane in my life."

Oneakka considered the comment seriously though. "If he hadn't been a weakness of yours for Robiah to exploit, you wouldn't have ended up working with us and wouldn't have gained your freedom."

There was a pause, her attention apparently focused on her work, but he could almost hear her brain assessing the bizarre possibility that Ulfur might have, even unintentionally, brought about something positive in her life.

"Keep reading your list," she ordered, clearly unwilling to accept the thought. It didn't matter to Oneakka though, because he'd clearly won that round of sparring.

He focused back on his pad, but it was still as boring as before. He dropped it onto the table top. "There's nothing there," he concluded.

"You haven't looked through it all," she argued. "We know that accountancy firm is criminal."

"No, _we_ don't know that," he pointed out. " _You_ say it is."

"Trust me," she stated, as she had several times already in this long research session. "There are too many suspicious links to some Dreamstation scum for them not to be criminal. At the end of the day, if you're trading within the Alliance you have to have accounts, and for 'creative' presentation of your official accounts, you need people like these guys. So, if they are dirty, who else are their clients?" She asked.

"Other people can look through all these names," he stated. "Robiah's people."

"But none of Robiah's people have my wealth of experience to recognise interesting names," she argued.

"Then _you_ keep looking," he stated.

She frowned at him. "Why are you so grumpy? Oh, no wait," she pretended to realise, "you're always like this."

He narrowed his eyes at her, a thought occurring about her new working life in the Facility. "I don't remember you this interested in researching the two databases back on the Sythus. Is someone getting bored working on only one project here?" He challenged her.

"I have plenty to entertain me here," she discarded his theory, but he had seen a flicker of something around her eyes before she looked away.

"Like high kicking Recruits in the face," he responded.

She sighed. " _Don't_ start on that again."

He grinned at her profile, pleased that he had won yet another round.

She had a very pretty profile. Her features were unusual, no doubt because of her Glisi heritage, her face slightly longer and wider than most women, but it only set her cheekbones higher, creating strong symmetrical features. She was built like a warrior, but still retained an elegant femininity with her long limbs and body.

He considered the healthy new flesh of her closest cheek, which told him she had put on weight whilst staying in the Facility. She had needed it, having been too thin when he had first met her. There had been a wild edginess to her back then, no doubt due to her fear of being captured by the Elite and the less than relaxed lifestyle she had lived on Dreamstation. However, in the months since those first encounters with her, as she had spent more time with the Elite, with better food and less likely to be killed at any moment, that edginess had settled into a sharp watchful intelligence.

All those years of experience on Dreamstation, plus her earlier years growing up on the streets of various non-Alliance worlds and competing in pit fights, had indeed created a "wealth of experience" as she had described it. He'd seen her pick a criminal out of a group without anything other than watching their body language from a distance, and he knew her computer coding skills were exceptional. Working here in the Training Facility meant that she was truly valued for her intelligence, and she'd proven her fighting skills to the Facility in spectacular style against those Recruits as only Raven was capable of doing.

She hadn't shown any signs of being angry with the Recruits or the Elite following that ambush. Instead, she seemed relaxed, more so than he'd seen her before, but then she hadn't been a free woman before.

"Are you enjoying your freedom, Raven?" He asked her directly.

She looked round with a slight raise of one eyebrow, clearly surprised at his question, but she smiled. "I am," she confirmed, but he sensed something unsaid at the end of her statement.

He waited for her to add more, lifting his own eyebrows to show he was waiting.

She sighed, using her own release valve. She glanced away to the rest of the wide canteen as a small group of Recruits entered for Late Meal, some of them laughing. "I guess, I do miss the action a little," she confessed.

"Beating up Recruits not enough for you?"

"Well, you weren't around, so someone had to keep them on their toes," she smiled at him.

He found himself smiling back, drawn in by her point.

She looked away again though, her expression darkening slightly as she watched the group of Recruits find a seat together. There were a few stolen little glances towards Oneakka, but he had no doubt that the rumours of his working with Seeal in the canteen had spread hours ago. Let them see him sitting beside her, working together as the Elite intended. It was highly unlikely they would attack her again, given Seeal's response to her ambush and the punishments Massa and Maja had dealt out, but it wouldn't hurt for the Recruits to know of Oneakka's approval of her presence in the Facility.

No one would harm her again here, he was certain of that.

"It's odd, being here," Seeal's words drifted to him as he watched another Recruit group sitting down around a table in one corner. He recognised them all, but he didn't know their names, not yet. Once they became final year students, then he would learn their names.

"Seeing these Recruits," Seeal's voice continued thoughtfully, "They're all here to learn to fight the Wraith." She said it as if it were a crazy idea, which maybe it was to her. "They're just children, even the grown up ones," she sighed. "Children learning to fight monsters."

He understood what she meant. As the years passed, it seemed to him that the Recruits were younger than ever before, but they weren't, it was just that he was getting older. He was already far older than he had expected to live as an Elite warrior.

"They're all full of righteous courage," Seeal continued, "and such determination. How many of them are going to survive their first few weeks or years as a real Elite? Out there facing real Wraith," She asked.

"One third won't make five years," he supplied her with the latest statistics.

She looked round at him, her dark eyes wide with shock. She shook her head. "See, I used to think Elite were crazy, and maybe I was right."

He knew she didn't mean the insult, not anymore. But, he understood her point.

"They're all here by choice," he reminded her. "They can leave their training at any time. The Elite don't want those who aren't prepared to give everything."

"By everything, you mean giving up their lives in battle," she interpreted.

He nodded.

But did it just mean a life given at the moment of death? There was so much more that an Elite surrendered that Oneakka had never truly considered when he had been a Recruit. That married cabbage farmer he would never be.

If he hadn't become an Elite, and if his planet had not been destroyed by the Wraith, what life could he had lived? What kind of man might he have become when he hadn't lost so much and been driven so hard to fight the Wraith?

"This Facility trains the best warriors in the galaxy," Seeal said, "and a third of them will be dead in five years? It is crazy."

"We're at war," he stated as he watched more fresh faced Recruits arriving into the canteen for their Late Meal. "Someone has to fight the Wraith."

"The Alliance Military Fleet is doing well enough, from what I've read. What's their survival rate?"

"Much higher," he confirmed. "But, they rarely go face-to-face with Wraith."

"To which I once again refer to my earlier conclusion: crazy," she emphasised.

He studied her for a moment, holding her direct eye contact. "Says the woman who ran back through the snow to save three of us 'crazy' Elite from Wraith."

She blinked. "I never said I wasn't crazy," she decided.

He had to smile at that answer, pleased with it for some reason. "Do you have to win every argument?" He asked her, wondering if it was some unconscious impulse or a chosen determined battle on her part.

"Who's arguing?" She shrugged the elegant shoulder closest to him. "We're just having a discussion."

Now he was the one to shake his head. If he thought her mad for the arguing, he had to accept that he was just as mad for enjoying it.

But then she appeared to be enjoying it too.

She slid her attention away from him and back onto the Recruits, more now sitting down to eat, all talking together across the canteen, all engrossed in their social routines and most likely swapping stories they had heard about battles and Elite warriors.

He looked out at them too, watching their youthful smiles and laughter, pretending that they weren't terrified with the life ahead of them.

"Do you ever want more?" Seeal asked, her question abrupt but thoughtful.

He looked round at her beside him to find her already watching him intently, a faint curious frown creasing her brow.

Her expression paired with her question reminded him of another question she had asked of him before; a deeply personal question about the meaning of his chest tattoo. He remembered feeling slightly thrown that time, but also flattered at her unexpected question, and he found himself feeling the same again now.

"More?" He asked, unsure what she was asking him exactly.

The thought worried to life that she might be referring to the unmentioned line between them. She wouldn't be talking about more between them, would she?

A faint sense of panic stirred in his belly, an unusual emotion that worried him as much as the question.

"In your life," she clarified, "outside of the Elite."

The sense of panic dimmed slightly – she wasn't talking about the line. Was she?

"You've given most of your life to this war," she continued, her eye contact still direct and seeming truly interested in his answer. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live away from it all?"

It was a little disturbing that she would ask this given his thoughts earlier and Massa's comments, but what threw him in responding was that he truly stopped to think of his answer.

If someone else had asked him that question before now, his response would have been immediate and definite: no, he was an Elite and that was what he would always be.

Except, meeting her and seeing the recent changes in the lives around him – Emmagan's marriage, Massa's loss but gaining a son - and as the battles slid past in greater number, the years passing with nothing new to his own personal life, new thoughts on his life had been stirring. In looking out at the Recruits now, if he was their age again, knowing what he knew now and having achieved what he had, would he still choose this life?

Choosing to dedicate his life to being an Elite meant giving up far more than his own life. It meant giving up that potential other life, a life in which he might have achieved different things, had a family, and been free to explore other professions.

Or would such another life have simply ended in death with his world, or at the hands of a Wraith during a culling? As strong and willing to fight as his people had been, it had not saved them from cullings and it had not saved them from their ultimate fate.

If he had not become an Elite would he have had no life at all?

Because it was all he had ever known, he could not imagine himself not wanting to be the warrior he had become. There had been no other driving force for him that he could remember, and, unfocused on eliminating Wraith, would such a drive have led him into a violent lifestyle? Could he have ended up walking down wrong paths as Seeal had done?

They were large questions, but ultimately futile because there were no answers and he was what he was.

So, there was only one answer to her question.

"I am an Elite," he stated. He had said this many times, especially to her, but today it felt like a conclusion rather than a description.

A conclusion that included her, and as he looked into her dark eyes, he felt a form of communication flowing back and forth between them. He couldn't attempt to transcribe that conversation, but he held nothing back in it on his part. She needed to understand that he was never going to change, in case she wondered otherwise. And maybe he needed reminding today as well.

He was proud of what he was, and he would never regret a moment of his years as an Elite. If it felt like a weight today, then it was a weight that he willing carried.

"It is what I am and will always be," he stated as he looked away from her, back out towards the youthful trainee warriors who idolised him in ways that were perhaps far from healthy for a normal life, but not for an Elite warrior.

In his peripheral vision he saw Seeal nod, and he could feel her gaze on him still. She needed to understand the truth and he would not hide from it.

He heard her sigh slightly. "I wish I knew what I am with such certainty," she pondered.

Her comment surprised him, making him look back round at her.

"Don't you know, Raven?" He asked her, the answer so obvious to him that he was shocked that she didn't see it.

Her expression shifted from surprise at his question to something achingly close to hopeful as she waited for his answer.

"You're a fighter," he informed her without any doubt in his mind.

He watched her consider that, her fast brain working behind her eyes.

"I guess you're right," she said. "From my youngest memories I've been fighting against what my people thought about me, then fighting to stay alive on other planets, fighting to keep me and Ulfur safe and fed." She glanced away with a faint sigh, appearing unhappy with the conclusion.

He admired her fighting nature and, especially in this Facility's company, he was surprised that she didn't believe the same of herself.

"It would also explain why we're always fighting," she added, a faintly playful smile pulling at her lips.

He nodded. "Everything's a fight with you," he teased her, but there was some truth in that too.

"Say's an Elite warrior," she protested.

He made a face to point out that she was again 'fighting' in the discussion.

"Point taken," she muttered and looked away.

He'd won that one too. Good. He was clearly winning today's sparring.

She let out a breath, not quite a sigh, but clearly thoughtful. Both of them ignoring the research now, they simply watched as more Recruits flowed into the canteen, all of them chattering and full of life.

Most of the tables were filling up fast, though it was obvious that the tables closest to Oneakka and Seeal's table were being left for the last to arrive.

Sitting alongside Seeal in silence, he simply sat and watched the room, observing behaviour and the social structures playing out. Had he really been that young? Where had all the years gone?

Seeal shifted in her seat beside him, turning her head to look at him. "A fighter," she considered his conclusion again, probably having been thinking about it during the comfortable silence. He nodded his agreement that he still believed in what he had said about her.

She angled her head thoughtfully. "An Elite warrior and a pit fighter," she said as she looked round at him, "that would _never_ work."

And they were abruptly at that line again, out in the open, looking each other straight in the eye.

"No," he agreed, making sure his tone was as neutral as possible.

"It would be just asking for trouble," she scoffed with a smile.

"It would," he agreed again, feeling oddly lightheaded. She always managed to take him by surprise.

She nodded with a large definite nod as she looked back out at the busy canteen, a smile on her lips.

And was that it? The discussion he hadn't wanted to have and now completed in barely moments? Like that it was out in the open, spoken about and to be forgotten? Just to die away?

"But an interesting friendship," she added into his somewhat confused thoughts. "Helping each other out with projects," she gestured towards their pad littered table.

He nodded, unable to decide on what words to use. This felt abruptly like completely new territory for him and he wasn't sure why.

"Both of us working on teaching the Recruits some real life lessons," she added, clearly enjoying the idea.

He had to smile at that.

"Maybe helping out with some arrests now and again if I help you find some criminals," she suggested with clear hope that he would agree.

"So you _are_ getting bored working here," he concluded.

She reached forward and picked up one of her pads again. "Not with friends like you," she replied. "I'm sure you'll keep things interesting. Besides, I need to add to my wardrobe, who knows what other clothing I can get from you."

"You mean _steal_ from me," he played along.

"You can have the shirt back," she offered hotly.

"I don't want it," he responded reaching for his own pad again, feeling happier to return to his research now.

And just like that, a weight slid off his shoulders, sliding away into the shadows to die in the dark.

There was no need to worry of her feelings, to concern himself over what she might expect from him, or that he might be tempted to push things himself.

No, the line had been drawn, had been slightly tested, and was now certain.

He felt better, more at ease though he hadn't been aware of feeling tense before with her.

She was his friend, apparently, and that meant he could enjoy her company and nothing more need be said or tested.

There would be nothing more.

It was what he wanted and the relief was almost palpable, so he almost eagerly began reading though a new page of accountancy client names.

There was nothing to be concerned about anymore.

...

Except, in his chest, almost beneath his Ugun tattoo, a small sense of emptiness ached into existence.

00000  
TBC


	17. Moving Into The Unknown

**Note:** Well, that was an overly long break, I do apologise to those still reading. The end of last year was not a great time and I had a less than happy Christmas and New Year, but I've been waiting to get back to this story and to get on to writing the next big story that will be a major one (there are a few hints through this fic as to what particular episode I will be adapting in the next fic).  
Thank you to those who have recently been messaging me – interesting timing guys since I had just started up on the story again. The nudges and checkins have meant a lot.

So, there are not all that many chapters left in this story, but I think I might need to reset the scene...

00000

 **Chapter 17 – Moving into The Unknown**

 _Last time on Stargate Atlantis..._

 _The Wraith's Nest had been destroyed and the Wraith stragglers had detected a signal calling them to a new Hive. Long Sleep, a Wraith with an unusually quick mind, has finally gotten his crew to the new Hive and awaits meeting his new Queen who has plans for a decisive strike back against the Alliance. However, things may not be what they seem..._

 _In the Alliance, the Nest victory has rallied everyone and Elite Emmagan's decision to enter into a Political Marriage with Major John Sheppard from Atlantis and Earth is the biggest piece of gossip going._

 _Among the Elite, Oneakka has finally returned to the Training Facility to see Seeal again after weeks apart and unexpectedly finds good common ground between them, and a new friendship to enjoy without complications...or so he thinks._

 _Meanwhile, Halling has remained on the Sythus whilst it is undergoing repairs in space dock, fearful of what Sitayi has told him of his possible future, or lack thereof._

 _In Atlantis, General O'Neill has arrived in the City as part of the IOA's team to meet their new allies in the Alliance, and Dr Beckett struggles to recover from the trauma of the explosion that almost killed him._

 _And on Athos, John and Ford have travelled to Tjaru, where John has had the First Family Meal with Teyla's family, but issues still hang in the air unresolved between him and Teyla following the events of "Not To Have and To Hold"._

 _And now the concluding chapters..._

 _0000_

 _Atlantis_

Carson watched the light playing across the ceiling above his bed with rapt attention. The lights glowed and flashed in from the Infirmary outside his open door, the different subtle colours mixing and dancing across the plain Ancient ceiling.

His Grandfather had used to have an lava lamp in his study and Carson remembered watching it for what seemed like hours when he had been little. Like a living being, the globs and blobs had flowed and stretched inside the lamp, and he had watched, fascinated by the show.

The ceiling display wasn't anywhere as close to fascinating, he knew that somewhere in his mind, but he watched the show with endless focus nonetheless. Little green lights blinked on and off in an offbeat pattern, longer red glows appeared and disappeared, and people's shadows slid through the bright overhead lights from the Infirmary in an unpredictable pattern.

For what might have been hours, he watched it all, shifting his eyes from one part of the show to another, the lights growing wider and brighter with time.

Watching it helped numb everything – the circling guilt ridden voice in his head, the heavy weight of his heart, and the shame that felt more permanent than his extensive scars would ever be.

The lights at least he could watch without thought, finding some silence and stillness.

Except it couldn't last.

He became aware of the pain killers beginning to wear off as the deep ache in his right upper arm began to grow into a stabbing pain, sharp and grating. He wouldn't be due another dose yet, but he could ask for a top-up.

He didn't though; he rarely did now. The pain of his broken arm as it healed was bearable, just. So he didn't ask for anything to ease the pain outside of his routine medications.

He instead let the pain join his watching of the lights, feeling the stab and ache, his bones knitting around the metal pins and plates in a way that felt more like punishment than healing.

But what was a little pain of recovery compared to how he had failed his patient and his colleagues? What was this pain compared to the agonising knowledge that each of their families had lost their loved one because of him?

He was a Doctor; he was supposed to save and preserve life, not take it.

But watching the lights helped; kept it at a distance for a little while as he focused on the ethereal dancing flashes and colours.

Except he suddenly realised that there was someone stood at the foot of his bed, their shadow across his blankets.

Carson snapped his eyes down from the ceiling, his heart jumping at the surprise arrival.

Only it probably hadn't been a sudden arrival, it was just that he hadn't been aware of them.

General O'Neill smiled from the foot of the bed, one eyebrow lifted as if he had asked something and was waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, General, I didn't hear you come in," the words flowed from Carson's lips with a long practiced skill of politeness and dealing with military personnel. His voice sounded dry and unused and he coughed out of reflex as he attempted to shift slightly more upright against his mound of pillows.

He remembered that Rodney had said something about the General being in the City, but Carson certainly hadn't expected a personal visit.

Perhaps the General was here to reprimand him for what had happened? Or maybe to take him back to Earth?

"Beckett," the General greeted him simply with a nod. "They taking good care of you?" He asked, glancing around as if he could tell the answer by what he saw in the small little medical room off the Infirmary.

Or was it that he understood some of the monitor displays set back out of Carson's view? The General had been through enough injuries over his long service that he might at that.

Carson attempted to shift against his pile of crushed pillows again, taking the moment to shift his right arm into a slightly more comfortable position, the hard brace around it digging into his armpit.

"I'm being well cared for, thank you," Carson responded as he tried to settle, the words tripping off his tongue with long familiarity.

"McKay not here, huh?" The General asked next, glancing around the room again and then dipping slightly to look under Carson's bed as if Rodney might be hiding under it.

Carson found himself looking round as well, round towards the empty chair beside his bed where Rodney usually sat. When had Rodney left?

Rodney had been by his bedside earlier, talking incessantly as always, but Carson couldn't for the life of him remember when Rodney had left. Maybe he'd been falling in and out of sleep as he had watched the lights across the ceiling and had missed Rodney leave. Though, he didn't recall falling asleep.

He rarely slept for long anymore.

"I'm not sure when he left," Carson reported honestly to the General.

He registered that his room was slightly darker than earlier, which explained why the lights from the Infirmary had grown brighter across his ceiling. It meant that it was probably towards the end of the day.

"Maybe he's in the Mess Hall?" Carson guessed randomly. Rodney often left for his meals now, so it might be dinner time. Or maybe later.

The General seemed to accept the logical guess. "No surprise there."

Was Rodney in trouble? Perhaps for spending so much time at Carson's bedside?

"Is everything alright?" Carson asked.

"Fine, fine," O'Neill replied with a disregarding wave of one hand. Carson realised that the man was wearing the city's uniform, not the more formal Airforce uniform of his station. It was typical of the man, but also implied that he had maybe been in the City at least a day already. When had Rodney told him about O'Neill being here? He had no idea how long ago it had been.

"I just need to have a little chat with the good Doctor," O'Neill added with what looked almost like eagerness. "Make some things clear."

Carson had no idea what that might mean, but the General's demeanour implied that it wasn't something all that serious. But then almost everything the General said had an air of amusement to it, as if he saw the fun in everything, even the most serious of situations.

Carson knew the General's full medical history, having been the one who had first identified the then-Colonel's ATA gene, so considering everything the man had lived though, Carson had no idea how he could see the world with such humour.

All the battles, losing so many colleagues, sending men and women to their deaths in wars against unimaginable odds, and then the torture and death he had gone through himself.

And the tragic death of his son.

Carson stared up at the General, confused at how the man could even stand upright after what had happened to his boy. How could he go on? And how could he be so amused by life with all its horrors?

Carson could barely breathe with the pressure of what he'd done.

"You need anything?" O'Neill asked into the silence.

A way to take back what he'd done? A way to bring back Marie? For him to be able to look out through the doorway into the Infirmary and see his friend and colleague smile back at him again?

But there was no way to undo what he had done.

"No," Carson replied, dropping his gaze away from the strong military man stood like a solid rock at the end of the bed. He couldn't even begin to imagine how the General could be so strong and steadfast...

Carson let his weakness wash over him, letting the tired waste of it claim him in a rush. He laid his head back against his pillows and simply worked on breathing.

"I'll let you get some rest," O'Neill's voice returned.

Carson focused his eyes forward again. "Thank you, General," he managed.

Then he closed his eyes and listened to the General's boots move away out of the room to be lost amongst the standard background sounds of the Infirmary – so familiar, so close, but so far away from him now.

Except, as he began to drift into the tired numbness of possible sleep, two voices became audible among the background of sounds.

"...are you sure?" General O'Neill asked.

"The treatments are working," Jennifer's kind professional voice replied, just barely discernible above the background. "...the burns are healing, as is his arm. We're confident that he'll regain full mobility in his arm."

"I'm not talking about his arm, Doc," the General interrupted her, his voice rising slightly and then dropping into the background.

Carson didn't strain to listen to anymore. The promise of the numbing distance of keeping his eyes closed was too good, as was the slight reprieve from the pain in his arm, the new position he'd found now slightly more comfortable.

"...I've tried to talk to him," Jennifer's voice swam forward again in his awareness though, again just barely audible. "He says he's doing okay."

If only that were true.

Carson purposefully pulled his attention away from the voices and noises outside, letting the promise of escape from the world draw him into the exhausted pull of sleep. Though, more likely it would only be an escape into more nightmares.

As the first began to claim him, he held onto the feel of the fateful scalpel in his hand as he looked into his patient's chest at the tumour that would ruin so many lives.

He reached in, hoping that this time he would do things right, and as he focused amidst the screams of the dying in his dream, he caught the last words spoken outside his room.

"He's _not_ okay, Doc," the General stated firmly.

00000

 _Tjaru - Athos_

The First Family Meal had gone well, though it had felt somewhat awkward at first. However, once Father had started sharing stories of his youth and then many from her own and Zabetha's childhood, much laughter had followed. John had even shared a few stories from his own youth, which had resulted in plenty of questions from the others regarding Earth and his life.

Teyla had watched carefully to ensure that John was comfortable with the questions, but as the hours had passed, the subtle tension in his shoulders had reduced and his smile had become far more relaxed. He had remained cautious with his words throughout the meal, but she was pleased that he had seemed to enjoy the food and Elkaska's fine tea that had followed. Her family had welcomed him willingly and happily, as she had known they would, and Teyla was deeply relieved that nothing had gone wrong.

However, once they had all finished Elkaska's new tea, Father had suggested that she show John his new quarters, and abruptly the family had all found something else that required their attention. Father had decided it was time to return to his duties, Zabetha and Rhakshar had left to "congratulate the cooks" for the meal, and Charin had needed to retire to rest, Elkaska assisting her to her quarters.

They could not have made it any more obvious that they wished to give Teyla time alone with John.

This had succeeded in bringing back the sense of awkwardness between her and John as she led him up the familiar stairs to the family habitation area of the Governing Complex. Except, this time she led John, Ketra at their heels, past the door to her old quarters and instead on towards their new adjoining quarters.

As they passed by her old quarters she could not help recalling that the last time they had been together in those quarters, or alone together in the complex at all, they had been exchanging angry, shouted words. She suspected that John was as acutely aware of that fact as well.

She maintained a constant flow of polite words to him as they ascended the staircase and walked by the old quarters, informing him of how she had only just moved into her side of their new adjoining quarters and that he could bring any personal items to decorate his quarters that he wished.

John said little as they walked, only commenting with nods and words of understanding, as equally polite and standard as her own words as she led him up a new set of stairs to the second floor.

Teyla was almost certain that she had spied Ketra looking between them with what looked rather like confusion across her reptile face.

Walking down the final section of corridor towards the door to her new quarters, Teyla described to John another route he could take up to the quarters, round from the back of the Family area of the complex. He nodded, repeating back his understanding on which directions to take to get here and that he could take the right hand corridor directly to the entrance of his own quarters. After all, he might be staying here when she was away, which he could do now that he was a Son of Athos through Marriage.

As they reached the door to her new quarters, she triggered it open to reveal her new lounge inside, but stood back to allow him in first.

He moved into the room willingly, Ketra close at his heels as if she were as concerned as Teyla that he find the place pleasant.

Teyla stepped inside after them, the door closing behind her, sealing them in together - alone with no one to overhear.

She held still as John moved forward, looking around her wide new living space with great interest.

"Nice," he reported with clear approval as he moved past one of her sofas, taking in all the items of her home that were, no doubt, all familiar to him, despite their new location.

"You've got more space," he commented, the words almost overly cheerful, as if he too were working to keep the conversation flowing between them, keeping it polite and pleasant...ignoring all the issues and tensions of the past weeks, though they hung waiting beneath the polite surface.

"Yes, I am very pleased with it," she agreed, using the same politely bright tone.

The surface tension stretched in the silence that followed.

Over these past days, she had frequently considered how to speak with him about all that had happened, but, as so often seemed to happen with him of late, the correct words and time to say them seemed to elude her.

John nodded in delayed response to her comment and looked away, moving further on towards the wide window looking out across the distant hills beyond Tjaru. The view looked almost like a painting, the window frame outlining the beautiful vista, and John took it in as he reached the windowsill.

In her old quarters, they had often stood together at one of the windowsills, looking out at the old view from her lounge or bedroom.

It had been stood together at a windowsill that they had shared their first kiss.

She looked away from him as she tried to find the right words. She was normally talented in finding the right words in the moment, but John did something to her mind and focus; which was part of the reason why she had tried to distance herself from him. However, her attempts to push him out of her life, and to refocus her full attention on the Alliance and her people, had only brought her full circle back to him.

She looked around at her new quarters with renewed meaning - her old things in their new places.

She had taken absolutely no interest in these new quarters during the wedding plans, though Father had tried to engage her interest in selecting the carpets and decorations and such. She had barely thought of these new rooms as being her new home, or the fact that the adjoining quarters would have been Maloo's home whilst staying on Athos. She had simply accepted the facts and put little, or no, emotion into them.

Now that she had actually moved into these new quarters, her old things around her and arranged in their new places, she found that she truly liked her new home. It felt strangely welcoming with its newness and freshness. This part of the complex was literally new, the old part of the complex that had once stood here had been torn down and this new block built prior to Zabetha and Rhakshar's wedding. Their quarters were downstairs and further new rooms were below them on the ground floor.

This home was entirely new for Teyla, and, oddly, she found great pleasure in that fact. Unexpectedly so.

Rather like her new husband.

Her eyes settled on the Earth blossoming plant in its new place to her left, across the room from the window, sunlight gently falling upon it.

It was doing well, despite what had happened to it only a few weeks ago.

Following her dramatic and embarrassing shouting match with John back in her old quarters, after he had stormed out, Teyla had thrown the plant across her old lounge. The uncharacteristic outburst had shocked her even as she had watched the precious plant and its pot crash to her old floor. The pot had broken and soil had been scattered across her home, but in too much of an emotional state at the time, she had simply left it there. However, whilst she had been out of her quarters, someone had found the plant and had re-potted it into its current new pot.

She still did not know who had undertaken the kindness, and whoever it had been had not mentioned the embarrassing moment to her since. She suspected it might have been Zabetha, but was not certain.

Whoever it had been had selected a lovely new painted pot, one larger than the first, and within its new home and with new soil, the Earth plant had flourished since. She was desperately grateful as she had feared she had permanently damaged the plant, the kind thoughtful gift John had given to Ketra.

Now, here it stood, a plant from another galaxy, blossoming away on its new position. She had set it on a pillar table beside the main doorway, a cloth beneath the new pretty pot, stood across from the seating area. Any guests sitting on the sofas would naturally find themselves looking upon the blossoming plant.

She could not help see great symbolism in her unconscious decision in its placement – for had the same not occurred with John? She had almost broken her connection with him, and instead now he was more prominent and officially part of her life than ever predicted.

Father would say it was the work and will of the Ancestors.

She could not agree, feeling her choices were her own, even if she did not feel entirely in control concerning John's place in her romantic life now.

What she did know for certain was that her decision to marry John had forged real ties between Athos, the Alliance and Atlantis. That decision might have enabled a real opportunity to strengthen them all against the Wraith and perhaps even one day defeat the Wraith for good. All in this galaxy might one day be free from the fear of the Wraith, and perhaps that goal was now more realistic than ever before.

And yet in that massive truth, the responsibility and complexity of her feelings for John did not make matters any simpler. If anything, they made matters more complicated and confusing.

He was now part of her life whether she wished him to be or not. Though she could now accept that he had a real place in her life, both personally and professionally, she still felt confused as to move forward with her deeper feelings for him.

For the Elite, love was a distraction and distractions could lead to the loss of life. Distractions endangered a warrior, made them question actions in the midst of battle and set the importance of some above others.

And yet, she could not deny what she felt, and she knew he felt something similar.

A large part of her did celebrate to be in his presence again, too feel the warmth inside to look upon his handsome face and delight in even the smallest of his smiles. Yet, was the broken plant pot not evidence enough that her judgement could be so severely impaired by him?

What if she could not trust herself and her reactions anymore? It was a very unnerving question, and very contrary to her Elite lifestyle and training.

Yet, had not John fitted into even that part of her life? He talked to other Elite with confidence and respect, and her closest Elite colleagues accepted and respected him in turn.

"The plant looks nice there," John uttered from across the room, drawing her attention back to the present moment. She had lost herself into her inner thoughts and was unsure how long she might have been stood staring at the plant in its new position.

She looked round at John, the beautiful view stretching out behind him.

He looked right in her new home.

"It seems to be happy here," she voiced, aware she was talking about so much more.

John nodded silently, his eyes upon her, as if he too was reading more into her words than the simple comment of the gift he had given her and Ketra.

She held his gaze, willing herself to be comfortable dropping of her barriers and insecurities so that she could honestly face this difficult situation. She and John had shared such intimacies, both physical and personal, had shared thoughts and feelings of their lives with one another. There had been no barriers between them once.

She saw him shift slightly, some discomfort crossing his expression – he did not know what to say, but wanted to say something to her. His lips pursed together, as if he were holding in words he wished to speak, or was he too, like her, struggling to know how to put all that had happened into words. To discuss what was to happen next.

She did not have the answer to that question yet, but the urge to provide him with some distraction to help ease his discomfort took over. She indicated the window behind him.

"Do you like the new view?" She asked, the discussion almost ridiculously formal, but at least it was something to share.

She saw relief cross John's face as he turned to look over his shoulder at the view in question. "It's great," he commented.

"The next two rooms look out in the same direction," she latched onto the subject and headed across the lounge towards the door through to her bedroom, happy to return to the plan to show him the new quarters. "The next room is my bedroom, and then your bedroom is attached, which also has a small window looking out at the hillside."

John followed her towards the doorway into her bedroom, and she led the way in, talking as she did. "Then your lounge is beyond your bedroom, which is at the back of this part of the building and you have a wide window there which looks down over the Orchard Courtyard."

"Nice," John commented, and presumably he recalled the particular courtyard as the family dining room led through to it.

Teyla led him into her bedroom, the last boxes on her bed and pile of her clothes beside them. She had been going through the pile of old clothes she had found at the back of her old wardrobe, thinking perhaps to use the cloth for something else.

"There is our adjoining doorway," she informed him as she indicated the door in question. It was a more traditional type of door, one of painted wood that swung shut on hinges, rather than an electric door used throughout the main complex. The older style door was traditional for a Political Wedding, as it could symbolically be left partly open. She had chosen to leave it that way for John today.

She led the way across her bedroom towards the door, acutely aware that this was her bedroom. She glanced aside at the bed as they passed by it and then up to the window above it that looked out upon the hillside view she had referenced to him.

She was almost certain she could feel the tension level increase between them as they passed her bed. Only, the bed was important for an entirely different reason today. She toyed with purposefully forgetting to point it out as their wedding gift from Elkaska, but then frowned at her cowardice.

She paused in the middle of the room and turned to the bed, John stopping a foot away from her, keeping the more formal distance between them still.

She looked at John beside her as she indicated the bed. "I should mention that this new bed is our wedding gift from Elkaska."

John's eyebrows shot up as he looked back at the bed, his gaze running over it, ending on the wide headboard which was carved with elaborate Athosian and Ancestor designs and lettering. It was a beautiful piece of artwork and the bed had been very comfortable last night, but it was the symbolism of the choice of gift and the headboard's design that was significant.

She could only hope that John would not be offended or made to feel too uncomfortable by it.

John looked round at back. "Your Uncle's not very subtle, is he," he commented.

She was instantly relieved to see that John was not taking offence; yes, he was surprised but seemed mainly bemused by it. She should have known not to worry – John was not overly sensitive and took things in his stride...except her announcement to marry.

She ignored that memory and instead focused on enjoying her own relief in sharing the bemused embarrassed moment with John.

"No, I am sorry he is not," she replied, smiling up at him.

John smiled back instantly, the awkwardness and caution in the air between them lifting away in an instant. She thought she saw relief in his expression too, and his gaze locked with hers with a directness that they had not shared in some time.

"Elkaska means well," she explained, holding his gaze with surprising ease.

"Yeah," John replied with feeling, the smile still on his lips as he pointed to the bed's carved headboard, where Athosian and Ancestor lettering flowed from either side of the board to wrap around each other in the middle, "I can see _what_ he means."

A small chuckle of relieved amusement broke out of her as she nodded and then continued on towards the adjoining doorway. "As you say, Elkaska is rarely subtle in his meaning."

"Must be a family trait," John uttered behind her, low but obviously meant to be loud enough for her to hear.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a look; a look that she had given him frequently during their teasing of each other in their former times alone together. He returned it with an overtly innocent look and then a handsome smile.

She pushed open the adjoining door between their two bedrooms and led the way through the doorway this time. Ketra, who had been waiting with surprising patience at the doorway, now barged into Teyla's legs in her eagerness to enter John's attached quarters.

John's bedroom was as bare as it had been last night, except someone had put some fresh flowers in a vase on the windowsill above the bare bed. The room was otherwise entirely empty of any personal touches, especially compared to the colour and busyness of her own adjoining rooms.

John passed by her, triggering open one of the doors to the built in wardrobe and peered into the empty space inside with surprising interest. "All this for me?" He asked.

Ketra crossed the room behind him, heading for the open doorway into his lounge.

"Yes, all for you," Teyla confirmed as she followed Ketra. "And your lounge is through here." This room was even barer, with only one small table and chair sat to one side. "Father says there is some spare furniture in some of the guest bedrooms if you would like it, or we can purchase some new pieces for you. He did not want to presume to know what you may want in here."

John had followed her into the large empty room. "How about a foosball table?" He asked, but his tone suggested it was a joking suggestion. She wasn't sure what a "foosball" table was, but she understood it wasn't a serious request.

She reached the far end of the lounge, at the aforementioned wide window looking down on the Orchard Courtyard two floors below. "You can have whatever you wish in here; these are your personal quarters."

John nodded, but appeared somewhat uncomfortable again as he glanced around the room. He almost looked intimidated by the open space.

"Maybe some pictures from Earth, a poster or two," he considered as he approached her at the window.

"Traditionally, you can use this space to meet officials and visitors," she informed him, remembering that he had no experience in the finer details of what a Political Marriage entailed. "Some people conduct business from their Political quarters."

John nodded as he reached the windowsill, stopping a few feet from her – closer than of late, but far further than they had used to stand. He lifted up on his toes and peered down through the glass to the Courtyard below.

"Do the quarters please you?" She asked as she studied his profile, unsure what he might be feeling or thinking.

Had she used to be so unsure in reading his inner feelings? Or was it that their shared physical affection had given her the impression that she knew him better than she did in truth? If they had still been enjoying their physical relationship, she had no doubt that they would have had fun together in the new marriage bed, or in his smaller bed, or even here on the new carpet of his new lounge. It was a moment she could imagine so easily, their times together before so enjoyable, but quite consuming. Sharing physical intimacy had grown almost out of control, a drug that she had to enjoy at any moment it was possible even to the detriment of her duties.

Would it be possible for her and John to have a more balanced physical relationship or would it always be something too consuming?

Part of her desperately wanted to test the theory, whilst the other side of her, her Elite and highly trained part, resisted something so distracting and intense that she would choose lying with John over standing beside her fellow warriors in battle.

She had wanted distance to regain control of these confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings, and it had worked, to a point. But it had not stopped him nearly always being on her mind. Anything she did she found herself wondering what John would think of it. How could she live a warrior's focused life with such things in her head and heart?

John turned from the window towards her, his eyes moving to the large empty lounge, though his body remaining facing her. "They're great," he confirmed of his new quarters as they watched Ketra stretch out in the middle of carpet. "I didn't expect so much space." She believed his words, but he still seemed somewhat uncomfortable as he looked around the empty large room.

"You are more than deserving of the space. You are an important political figure now, John," she reminded him, but she kept her tone gentle. He was not one to seek out important stations, but she meant it when she told him that he deserved the respect. He was an honourable and brave man.

He nodded with what appeared to be acceptance, reluctant acceptance perhaps, but she could see that he had taken on his new mantle of a political figure. "Yeah, it's certainly hitting home," he muttered as he settled his right elbow against the windowsill beside him, leaning against it.

" _Hitting_ home?" She asked, unsure if the Earth phrase was negative or positive in its meaning.

His gaze met hers again, but she could see that he was being cautious once more. "It means it's all becoming very real now," he explained.

She nodded, pleased that she had correctly read his expression and body language.

She remembered all too clearly that she had been angry with him at the Offering Ceremony when she had felt that he had made his offer for childish reasons. That he had perhaps wanted to retaliate against her, maybe force her to continue their relationship, or just simply to push out the Genii offer for his own people. However, he had made a good case of his reasoning and she had agreed that the contract between Atlantis and the Alliance was the best of choices available to her.

She had even admitted to John back on the Sythus that he had been correct in his awareness that she had not liked Maloo.

She glanced away to the empty quarters and tried to imagine Maloo moving into them. No doubt Genii guards would have lined the doorways and this lounge would have quickly become a base of operations for the Genii. She could not imagine having the adjoining doorway open even a crack with Maloo sleeping in the next room.

No, John was the right choice as her husband. She even loved him, but that felt rather disconcerting now rather than wonderful. Elite should not seek such things. She had tried to create distance from him, but now would be even closer to him than ever. How could she find balance with that? Should she maintain the new distance, physical and emotional, that she and John had found these last weeks, or should she surrender to her feelings once more and hope to keep more in control of them this time?

Her Elite side told her not to, but her heart ached at the continuing stilted distance from John. It did not feel right to be so uncomfortable in his presence.

"Yes," she replied softly to him, "it has all become all too real."

His eyes shifted away from her slightly, but he nodded and glanced back to meet her eyes again. "Things kind of got crazy there for a bit," he said cautiously.

She was not entirely sure if he meant their arguing or their affair before then. Perhaps it did not matter, both states had been out of control and rather "crazy".

She nodded. "I truly am sorry for not having spoken with you sooner about my plans to marry," she apologised to him once again. She had already spoken these words to him after their return from the mission to Giant, and he had accepted her apology, but she felt the need to repeat it again. "I should have handled matters differently, very differently." She glanced away, knowing that her comment covered all too much.

She did not regret her affair with John, not really, but at the same time she had to wonder if it had been wise. She would not be in this conflicted state had she kept some distance from him in the first place.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. "I'm ah," he glanced away and down again, as if searching for something, "I'm not great...when it comes to..." He winced, his gaze shifting up and away, clearly quite uncomfortable, but she did not want to presume to guess what he was going to say.

"You know," he continued, "with the whole expressing..." he waved his free hand between them, "how I...," he moved his hand out from his chest, as if to indicate how he might express himself, "about my..." He seemed to truly be struggling.

"Feelings?" She suggested the word he might be searching for.

"Yes," he agreed quickly, his gaze meeting hers directly again. "And um," he glanced down briefly again, "I didn't really react well," he gave a half shrug that conveyed just how poorly he had reacted to her announcement about her wedding. "And I know I said some things," he winced. "Accused you of sleeping with other guys."

She recalled his comments during the shouted argument and she nodded that she remembered, but she did not feel the same horror and anger at his accusations as she had at the time.

"And I'm really sorry about that," he finished. "I didn't mean it, it's just that I felt...hurt." His eyes flickered away, uncomfortable and perhaps embarrassed at admitting his feelings.

She found herself oddly uncomfortable as well; she had hurt him and she regretted it deeply.

"And you were right about some other things," he continued. She focused on him intently, curious as to which part he was referring to now. "These last weeks in Atlantis," he said more thoughtfully and softly, "I've been involved in every meeting, report and conversation you can imagine about this new contract with the Alliance and the Elite, and it's made me, um, realise how big this thing is outside of...us." He indicated them both. "For our people. I mean the President has been talking about me in the Oval Office," he added quickly with clear disbelief.

She could not entirely recall who this President was in the political hierarchy of his planet, but she understood his point. Though, she thought that John had surely been important enough to be discussed by those in power back on Earth even before the marriage contract.

"Prime Ministers and other world leaders," John continued, seeming slightly panicked in his tone, "they're talking about me and this contract that I signed them all up to with your people."

Was he regretting the decision? Were the leaders of Earth regretting his actions?

"And it's great," he added hurriedly. "This really is the best decision for everyone," he added quickly. "They're all behind it back home. But, it's pretty...big."

She nodded, understanding all the layers to his point. This was big, not just for their peoples across two galaxies, but in the change in his status and the responsibility he now had upon his shoulders.

"You are more than capable of representing your people and your world," she assured him clearly and precisely, ensuring that he believed her words. "I do not regret my choice in Political Husband," she told him plainly and reached out across the space between them and touched her hand to his left arm. His left hand had settled back on his hip, but he moved his arm so that her touch slid into his hand, and she grasped his hand tightly, hoping to convey her absolute faith in him.

His hand was warm and strong wrapped around her own, and she felt his thumb brush over the back of her hand as he had done so frequently before. It was not a touch of passion but it felt very intimate, holding a new openness and sense of mutual support that she had not experienced before with him.

"I hope that you are not regretting your choice of Political Wife," she asked, though she smiled hopefully with her question, and he smiled back immediately, his gaze turning soft and his smile kind.

"Never gonna happen," he reassured her in turn.

She was a little surprised at how relieved she felt to hear that.

She squeezed his hand, so glad to have a way to touch him that was not sexual right now but still deeply meaningful. "I am pleased, and I do truly believe that, through us, our people can make a real difference in his galaxy against the Wraith."

He nodded, his gaze direct and frank, and full of clear affection. "Me too."

"We made this decision for our people, because it is 'big'," she used his term. "I have learnt so much of value from my Elite training, but one thing we are taught from our very first lesson is that working together increases our effectiveness." He nodded in agreement. "Working together the Elite, and the Alliance, have done great things, and I know that working with Atlantis we can achieve even more."

"Working together," John repeated as he held her hand tightly.

She smiled and took in a breath, John's masculine scent filling her senses. "Together," she agreed.

He took a small breath of his own and she knew what was to be discussed next; she only wished she knew what to say or do.

"And," he started, his expression still open but slightly cautious again, "about the...feelings?"

She looked down from him, down towards their clasped hands. "I am not sure, John," she whispered and made herself look up into his eyes again. "I am worried," she forced herself to be open and honest, despite the vulnerability and confusion she felt, "that what we have shared before now was too overwhelming, too distracting for an Elite warrior. We are taught that deep relationships disturb a warrior's focus, and can easily lead to mistakes, as I did when Kari was killed."

"You can't be everywhere, Teyla," John stated, "You can't be on every mission. You're allowed to have your own life."

She held his gaze. "Many Elite would say that is not true; that our lives have to be focused purely on the destruction of the Wraith. Anything that splits our focus can be dangerous for us in decisive moments."

"I can understand that," he replied. "I've..." he sighed heavily, "been considering things too."

A worried nerve constricted in her chest.

"Woolsey knows tons about Athos and the Alliance from all his chats with your Dad, but I didn't have much to say. Don't get me wrong," he quick emphasised, "I enjoy every minute here," his tone clarified just what activities he was referring to, which had been frequent and plentiful during his visits. "It's just that, I wasn't...really doing my job to learn about your people and represent Atlantis' interests."

She nodded, grateful that he did understand her concerns that their relationship had interfered with their duties, but at the same time she was acutely aware that it felt like something was breaking a little in her chest to hear him speak this way.

Had she hoped he would convince her to restart their physical relationship? Perhaps she and hoped to let him tempt her despite her real concerns?

"I think Colonel Carter suspects something's been going on between us," he added.

Teyla frowned up at him worriedly. "Could that be a problem for you? Would they punish you?"

It was yet another possible reason why they should keep the new distance between them.

"I don't know," he answered honestly with a slightly pained wince. "In military bases fraternisation is against regulations and people can be reassigned."

Would they reassign John back to Earth?

"But we are married now," she insisted. "You cannot be reassigned, you have to be part of any negotiations and there is no compromise in the shared time in a Political Marriage contract." Or would Atlantis break the contract? Surely not.

"I don't think they would do that now, and, besides, I don't think there's been a precedent for fraternisation with an alien warrior princess before." His wide smile relieved a little of her worry, but it did not change the concerns.

"Do you honestly think it would present a problem for your future career path?" She considered. She would not wish to damage his future.

Was she now looking to be convinced not to restart their physical relationship? Why did it all have to be so confusing? She recalled so many stories across so many worlds about the conflicts and heartache love could bring, as well as its kindness and beauty, and she had never truly understood that truth until John. How could she both love this man and be almost afraid of his power over her at the same time?

"I've never had much stock in anything like that," he dismissed her concerns about his career advancement. "I doubt I'll go higher than a Major."

"I strongly disagree," she stated, though admittedly she was not sure of how military ranks were decided among his people, but his path to promotion had to be obvious given his victories in battle and in gaining the new contract for his people. "You are a very able warrior and a leader of your team."

He smiled at her. "I'll make sure I tell Sumner you said that at my next performance review. You know," his tone slid into a deep teasing note, "on Earth wives are always on their husband's side."

She had to smile at the sudden teasing turn with a none too subtle seductive undertone. "Really?" She asked with some doubt. "Even if they were to do something very foolish?"

"Yes," he stated firmly.

"Then surely the husbands are always on their wife's side as well," she replied.

He pretended to consider that. "Sure," he conceded.

"Good," she smiled. "Because in a Political Marriage neither side is to appear in disagreement with the other."

"United front, I get it," he nodded.

"A united front where we can show the rest of the Alliance that our people can work together to fight the Wraith, to defeat them for good." It was why they had ultimately decided to marry, to bring their people together. "I do truly believe that we can do that, John."

"Me too. We'll show 'em how it's done," he agreed. "In fighting the Wraith," he clarified quickly, "they don't need to know about how well we do other things."

She had to chuckle at his comment with clear suggestive undertones. Oh, how she had missed this playful seductive electricity that arose so spontaneously between them. It tempted at her senses, reminding her so vividly of what it felt like to be held by him, to feel his touch, lie upon him...

She made herself look away, but couldn't help herself but glance back at him. The lines between them were still undecided, at least for her, but she could never doubt the sexual allure of him, or stop the natural temptation of that sparkle in his eyes.

She need only reach out and he would respond willingly she had little doubt.

Regardless of all the reasons why it might be wise to keep some distance from each other, the vast distance between their worlds, and their former angry words with each other, the attraction and passion between them had never been in doubt.

"Indeed," she agreed, but now was not the time for such things. She had too much to consider, too many worries and inner conflicts. "But," she shifted her eyes away from him, that tight sensation in her chest growing.

No, she was an Elite, she did not run from facing that which was difficult.

She made herself meet John's eyes. "Our duties are vitally important and," she took a breath.

He blinked and she saw in that tiny movement that he knew what she was going to say.

"We have to remain focused on our mission to help our people work together, to fight the Wraith," she forced herself to clarify each word clearly. "I do not think it is wise for us to be...distracted with each other."

He broke eye contact and, even though he nodded, she saw his disappointment.

She had hurt him again.

Was she really going to end this? After how much she had missed him, after all the heartache and all they had achieved together on missions and in uniting their people?

Had he really come into her life to show her a love and delight of life outside of her warrior lifestyle, only for him to become a more traditional distant Political Husband?

How many Political couples had she seen over the years at a vast number of official functions on Athos and at Military events? She had seen the obvious distance, lack of anything close to friendship or even common ground between so many of them, and she had felt sorry for them all. She had even judged them poorly for putting themselves into such a close relationship with someone they disliked or simply tolerated. But, had she not been about to do the very same with Maloo...and possibly about to with John?

Was she really going to sleep in that new marriage bed alone for the rest of her years?

"For the time being," she added hurriedly, the words rushing from her lips as if some part of her had had to force them out before she stopped them.

His eyes snapped to hers, his gaze holding hers, assessing, unsure if she meant what she said perhaps.

"Until we find our way forward with our duties and with each other," she thought out loud. It seemed that she had made her decision after all.

Except, he had not said anything yet.

"Unless you disagree?" She asked carefully, aware that he had only moments ago agreed that their relationship had distracted him from his duties too, and she had been very unfair to him about her plans to marry – perhaps he did not want to pursue a physical relationship anymore.

She waited, watching him, aware at how much this really did mean to her. How had she ended up being so emotionally tied to this man? His opinion and actions influenced her emotions and life so strongly. It was not the Elite way, but she couldn't seem to just walk away from him either.

"No, I agree," he replied, "If that's what you want." His gaze remained direct and intense, as if he were trying to read her soul.

"There is a lot for us to focus on right now with the new contract and Father meeting your new representatives," she found herself explaining further. "There is plenty of time to spend with each other as our people start to work together," she added, aware that she had somehow gone from preparing herself to put clear emotional distance between them to now feeling as if she was trying to convince him that there was hope for them in the future.

How did he have such power over her heart and mind?

"Sure," he agreed. "We've got a lot of work to do," he nodded.

She nodded, looking into his eyes, watching him intently, trying to understand what he was thinking. He seemed unsure.

"I will be due to attend my first stay in Atlantis soon," she added. "Our first shared time with your people."

He smiled more naturally. "We've got a new driving range set up in the city, I could show you how to play some golf."

She was excessively relieved to see his smile. "You have threatened that before now," she replied, oddly the one to force humour into the conversation, which was normally his role.

"We'll pick a nice sunny day, you'll love it," he smiled again. "And there's some great walks around the piers that I didn't get to show you the last time you stayed for the peace talks."

"That sounds enjoyable," she replied honestly.

"Maybe we could take a picnic," he suggested, which did sound a very good idea.

She smiled up at him. "I would like that."

He smiled back, appearing happy now. "Good."

Silence fell between them, but they held each other's gaze.

She realised she was still holding his hand. She looked down at their clasped hands, surprised that she had not registered the ongoing contact; it felt so natural to hold his hand, despite the difficult conversation.

Clearly she was not ready to let go of him.

And it appeared he was not about to let her go of her either.

She ran her thumb over the back of his hand, mimicking his usual action which she realised she had never returned. She looked up into his eyes and he smiled a soft and new smile. There was no rush of passion in the space between them, which had been so common before, but there was something new and equally as powerful. She remembered becoming aware of it back on the Sythus when he had gently kissed her without passion but with such care.

She again stroked her thumb over the back of his hand clasped around hers.

Nothing ever was as she expected, and perhaps there was no control to have in this situation with John, but it felt right and she could not deny that.

Where it would take them was unknown, but, as an Elite warrior, she was more than used to striding into the unknown.

00000  
TBC


	18. The Ambiguity of Entanglement

**Chapter 18 - The Ambiguity of Entanglement**

 _Tjaru, Athos_

John frowned at the little keyboard on the Alliance electronic pad in his hand. Typing out English words on the thing took a lot longer than usual as all the letters were in different places to an Earth keyboard. He was getting used to how to work his way around the Alliance pads, but he didn't often type things out on them directly. He ran his eyes along the lines of letters and finally found the 'm' in the bottom left corner.

Clearly they needed to introduce QWERTY to the Alliance.

He smiled at the thought as he finished his latest word in the long series of lists and notes he and Teyla had been brainstorming for the last hour.

No one had come to visit them, Teyla's family clearly giving them 'time alone'.

John decided it was best not to think about what Teyla's Dad thought he and Teyla might be up to during their alone time. Though in all honesty, Torren would be right had it been a month or so ago. Instead, he and Teyla had spent the last hour actually working after she had finished showing him his new Athosian quarters. And they'd had their _chat_.

It felt a bit weird having quarters here. He didn't even have a place back on Earth, but now he had a full apartment on an alien planet! It was nice too, lots of space, nice view and a lovely neighbour.

Said lovely neighbour, and his new wife, was currently heating up a new pot of Elkaska's new tea on the little hot plate thing they used on Athos. She was peering into the top of the kettle/teapot and stirring the tea inside. John had seen her do this enough times now that he could tell from the amount of steam rising from the pot that the tea was almost ready.

Maybe he had been learning more about Athos than he'd realised.

A loud snuffling snore broke his watching of his new wife, and he grinned down at his own left knee, where Ketra's head had been a heavy weight for most of the last hour.

He and Teyla had headed back into her far brighter living space than his empty one and he'd settled down into this particularly deep cushioned couch of Teyla's. Ketra had immediately sat on the floor by him and had set her head on his leg, big eyes watching him. He'd scratched around her ears and across the top of her head while he and Teyla had turned their attention away from the complicated emotional stuff and had started brainstorming on how they were going to help get their people working well together, both through trading, the best people to meet, and how they might combine forces in military missions.

John had named it "Operation Cunning Plan".

They'd come up with a lot of ideas too, which was great because this time he would be able to present some real results from his visit here. It might even go some way to distracting Colonel Carter away from any ideas that there really was anything going on between him and Teyla.

Though, in all honesty, he wasn't all that sure about that himself.

The conversation he and Teyla had had earlier had been good – open and honest, and there hadn't been any shouting or sulking, which was a bonus of late. Things were better, he felt connected with her again, but it felt different. Somehow it felt like they were closer than ever before, but what was going to happen with all the "feelings" wasn't all that clear.

They were kind of in a romantic relationship, but not at the same time. Kind of like the Schrodinger's Cat of relationship states.

He winced at his own thoughts – he was spending _far_ too much time with Rodney if he was using physics analogies!

Another dragon snore echoed up from Ketra and he chuckled at her. In his currently somewhat slumped position on the couch, his angle meant that Ketra's large dragon nose filled most of his view of her.

"How can she sleep sitting up like this?" He asked Teyla as she moved across the room to him with the now hot pot of tea.

Teyla smiled softly at Ketra as she held out a silent hand for him to pass her his empty tea cup. He laid his pad on his stomach and held up his cup for her.

"I suppose it is because her species sleep in the trees," Teyla replied as she filled the cup. "She is clearly very pleased that you are here."

"I hope she's gonna like it in Atlantis," John considered, remembering that the marriage contract had stated very clearly that Ketra was allowed to stay in Atlantis with Teyla. Sumner hadn't been all that happy about that, but then was he? "There's not exactly a lot of trees in the City. Thanks," he added at his newly filled cup.

"She is used to staying in varying environments," Teyla replied, not seeming at all worried.

"There's a lot scientists looking forward to meeting her," John added as he sipped at his tea.

Teyla, her own tea cup refilled, sat back down on the couch next to him. She was sitting right up close to him again, not snuggled up or anything, but still nice and close. He forced himself to focus on what she was saying.

"...they must treat her with respect," she frowned. "And only observe and interact with her, I will not have them experiment on her."

"No one's gonna hurt her, I promise," John assured her quickly. "To be honest, they'll probably dote on her; it'll be like there's a puppy in the City. Scientists try to appear all analytical and logical, but they get weirdly excited about things. I think they might need to take a small blood test from her though, give her a full check when you first visit the city, make sure she's not carrying any diseases or alien dragon fleas or anything," he smiled, hoping Teyla would be okay with that. Colonel Carter had asked him to make this point and, here he was, doing as he was told and working...not focused on other stuff.

He realised his eyes were wandering, following that tempting line of black tattoos flowing down Teyla's neck into her cleavage. That was quite a low cut top she was wearing today. Far more Athosian and less Elite warrior.

He made himself look back up at her eyes and saw a flicker of a smile across her features that told him that she'd noticed.

He smiled at her, using his 'charm smile' as she used to call it - shaking the box holding Schrodinger's Cat a little bit, seeing if there was any life in there.

She raised one eyebrow, but was smiling still. Yep definitely some signs of life in the box.

"I am sure that will be fine," she added, referring back to their conversation about Ketra in Atlantis, but maybe about the cat in the box too.

"Good," he smiled at her again, holding her eyes.

She smiled, blinked and glanced away as she sipped at her tea. "Have you had anymore thoughts?" She asked, indicating the pad on his stomach with her free hand.

John took the cue to return to business. "Actually I was thinking about this tea," he indicated Elkaska's brew in his hand, "because clearly your Uncle is looking to trade it with us."

Elkaska had asked him several times after the meal if he'd liked the new tea and John had honestly said he had each time. So much so that he'd drunk far too much of the stuff and could feel that he had a very full bladder. Still, it wasn't desperate yet and he didn't want to break the mood and Ketra's sleep by leaving the couch.

"We grow lots of different teas on Earth," he continued. "And Elkaska's said before he'd be interested in trading for some." Woolsey had already included tea in his long list of items Earth could trade with the Alliance, and tea in particular with Athos, who seemed quite obsessed with the stuff - kind of like Britain back on Earth.

Teyla nodded as she sipped from her cup. "I am almost certain that would be a popular choice."

"And I was thinking, maybe we could trade coffee plants, not just the beans, like I think we've done already with Athos," John added, setting his cup aside on the nearby small table and picking up his pad again.

He tapped in _"Tea, and introduce coffee growing to Athos/Alliance? Or can we grow on the mainland?"_.

"I was also considering your ideas about technology trade," Teyla considered as she set her own cup aside and settled further back against the couch at his side, her shoulder and thigh lightly brushing his. "The 'anti-stunning tech', as you described it," she smiled, "may be the best starting point, as it is not a weapon."

"It would make a big difference for us," John replied, excited at the prospect. If they could have the tech that would make them immune to Wraith stunners like the Elite and Alliance Military, it would change the outcome of every single encounter with the Wraith.

"Though, we have had to adapt it recently," Teyla said, "as one of the Wraith Hives changed the frequency of their stunners enough for the new thread dispersers to be less effective, but our scientists have managed to quickly counter that."

"Do you think the Wraith will find a way to counteract it completely?" He asked, worried at the thought.

"I doubt it," she dismissed the idea. "The changes they managed only resulted in a 30% reduction of protection to a stunner hit. It did not result in the warriors in question losing their victory."

"That's a relief." It wouldn't be good for Atlantis to get their hands on the tech only for it to no longer work against the Wraith.

Ketra's ongoing snores broke loudly and the dragon's head lifted from John's knee, leaving a cold patch. John reached down and scratched at one of Ketra's warm sleepy cheeks. Ketra blinked lazily, enjoyed the scratch for a second and then slumped down out of view. John felt her settle on the floor next to his boot and then her head dropped onto the top of his feet, and the snoring started up again almost immediately.

John guessed there was no chance of him going for a pee now; she had him completely pinned down.

He smiled bemused at the echoing snores. "I don't remember her snoring like that before now," he asked Teyla while she tapped away on her electronic pad.

"It is the time of year," Teyla replied. "There is a flowering shrub found in most of the courtyards which seems to irritate her nose."

"Ah, dragon hay fever," John nodded as he watched Teyla beside him. She looked very relaxed, like they had used to be with each other before all the shouting and crazy ideas about marrying a Genii.

"She does not help herself," Teyla continued, "she insists on shoving her entire head into the shrub in question and inhaling the flowers. She then sneezes for almost an hour afterwards."

John chuckled at that image. "Maybe it's like catnip or something to her," he considered.

She looked round at him with a delicate questioning frown.

"It's a plant back on Earth that cats go mad for, it's kind of like a drug to them. Cats are small domestic pets," he added.

Teyla lowered her pad. "I had not considered that it might have such an effect on her."

"Or maybe she just likes sneezing," John joked.

Teyla smiled. Yep, definitely more relaxed.

"I hope that I might be able to visit Dr Beckett during my stay in Atlantis," she asked, her eyes on him.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to see you," John replied, though he could feel his mood dropping. He was really worried about Carson, and had no idea how to help. "We're all really grateful for the Elite's help in treating him."

"We are happy to assist," Teyla replied. "After all, Dr Beckett saved me from my wound at Iketani' blade, and I am grateful for the opportunity to help him in turn."

John remembered that all time too well.

"I am not privy to the details," she added, "but our Healer has informed me that Dr Beckett continues to respond very well to treatment."

"Yes," John replied, hearing the emotion going out of his own voice. "He's healing up well, though he's still stuck in the Infirmary."

He picked up his tea for another sip and put the cup down again before looking back at Teyla.

She was watching him closely. "Yet, you appear very concerned for him still."

John smiled at her as best he could on this particular subject. It kind of brought back so many bad memories from his own past, and he felt useless in helping Carson fight the demons that John remembered all too well.

"He's going to be fine," John insisted, perhaps to himself as well as to her.

Teyla kept looking at him, clearly not believing him.

He didn't have any right to talk about Carson's medical condition with her, but at the same time...

"Physically he's okay," he repeated from earlier.

This time Teyla nodded with understanding. "Ah, I see. Battle can leave scars that can never be seen," she summarised, rather poetically.

"He'll be fine, it's just...," John sighed and set his pad back down on his stomach, Ketra's snoring continuing from the floor, her head a nice warm weight on his boots. "I can't tell you exactly what happened in Atlantis that resulted in him being injured, but basically Carson made a decision to try to save a patient, but it didn't work and instead there was an explosion. Everyone around him died, including his patient."

"He feels responsible," she concluded accurately, her expression sad.

John nodded. "It was a judgement call, and if it had worked, he could have saved his patient, but..."

"As warriors we know the risks, as I am sure Dr Beckett does as well, but I imagine that," she considered, "as a Healer, a Doctor, it may be especially difficult for him."

John nodded. "He blames himself and...I don't think he's handling it well. I'm not sure if he'll be able to work again," John voiced the worry everyone had back on Atlantis but didn't actually say out loud to each other. Atlantis without Carson – John didn't like the idea of that. He was so grateful that Carson had survived the explosion, but to lose him back to Earth, John would really miss him.

"I really wish I knew a way to help him, but," John frowned, "he doesn't seem to want to talk about or even acknowledge that he's not handling it."

Teyla nodded, and John lowered his eyes back to the pad on his stomach. He should turn the conversation back to the trading list, maybe make a joke-

"I have one idea," Teyla said into the silence.

John looked round surprised. He hadn't actually expected her to come up with something.

"I am not saying it would work, but I know someone who may be able to speak with Dr Beckett. Someone who has been in a similar place as he. I cannot promise it will make any difference."

"Any help would be great," John replied, hopeful.

"I will contact the Training Facility before we leave here this evening, and, if this person agrees, they may be able to visit Atlantis right away," she suggested. "If you would ask Colonel Carter to allow another visit from the Training Facility?"

"I'm sure she will. I'll tell them when I check in with Atlantis before we head off world later," he smiled. "Not that I know where we're going yet." All she had told him, and Atlantis, was that it was a military event this evening and that he and Ford were invited, presumably because they had been part of the successful mission against the Wraith Nest System.

Teyla smiled and then glanced across the room towards the time displayed on her wall screen. "It is not long until we will have to leave, so I suppose I can tell you where we are going."

John shifted up against the couch a little, feeling more alert. "And where we can begin Operation Cunning Plan," he grinned.

"Indeed," she smiled. "Whenever a particularly important victory is gained over the Wraith, the Military organise a celebration for all the warriors who were present for the victory. A planet, or sometimes a station or battleship if the numbers are small, is selected carefully and at the last minute within Alliance territory. Tonight, every Military ship's complement, and the Elite, who were part of the victory over the Wraith's former Nest are invited to celebrate together."

"So lots of military brass," John understood, "so good for me and Ford to be seen there."

"It is widely known already that two of Atlantis' warriors were part of the victory, and you in particular are in the public eye at present."

"Yeah, I guess," he winced. He couldn't imagine anything worse than all that attention, everyone gossiping, but it was good for Atlantis' reputation in the Alliance that he'd not only married an Elite warrior but had been part of the big victory at the Nest System. "And why I've now got an Honour Guard?" He looked at her pointedly. He hadn't had a chance to bring up his personal bodyguards with her yet.

She looked at him with a direct look, "Do you approve of them?"

"I've only just met them," John felt uncomfortable about the whole thing really. "They seem nice and very...military."

"Good," she said decisively. "I chose them very carefully to fit with your...," she took time considering the word and he frowned suspiciously at her, "personality," she decided on with a smile.

"What does that mean exactly?" He asked, aware that the teasing vibe had returned, even though it was kind of a serious conversation. These were people who were apparently going to put themselves between him and trouble, and he didn't feel right about people putting their lives on the line for him.

"It means that they are warriors who are...," she pretended to think about it some more. He got the feeling that she might be enjoying this too much. "Not so conventional in their approach to rules and regulations, yet have the very highest standard of fighting skills and a deep sense of honour. Just like you."

He was almost taken back by that, and felt a bit uncomfortable about the spontaneous compliment. "Still, I'm not sure I like the whole idea of them putting themselves on the line for me-"

"John," Teyla interrupted him, shifting round on the couch to face him, and her hand settled on his arm.

"As we already agreed, you are an _important_ political figure now, and I will not have you unguarded whilst in Alliance territory," she stated. "They all volunteered for the position on your Honour Guard, and I have fought alongside each of them at least once. I trust them to look after you if the need arises."

"But-" John started.

"John," she interrupted him again, her hand squeezing his arm now. "Accept this honour and work with them. They are good people and it is an honour for them to protect an Elite warrior's husband and a warrior from another galaxy. You do not want them to look bad in the eyes of their fellow warriors by turning down their assistance would you?"

She knew just how to make him agree, damn it. He narrowed his eyes at her. "No," he agreed.

"And it would not look good for Atlantis to reject the honourable assistance of warriors from the Alliance," she pushed again, clearly having won but seeing the need to keep convincing him.

"No, it wouldn't," he agreed.

"So you will agree to work with them?"

"Yes," he agreed. "Dear," he had to add at the end, though she wouldn't understand the reference.

"Good," she grinned brightly.

He frowned at her clear happiness at having had him agree. He hadn't even had the chance to make any arguments, she'd just won straight out.

"Don't expect to always win everything now we're married," he told her. "Using your feminine wiles won't always work, you know," he looked pointedly down at her hand on his arm.

She smiled, "Of course."

"You should always try though," he added, shaking that cat in the box again.

Her smile widened. "In case my feminine wiles might work?"

"Exactly," he grinned. "Just to be sure"

She actually chuckled at that. Oh yes, his old Teyla was back. She was relaxed, smiling and teasing him again. Thank God.

"And of course this means that you will attempt to use your masculine wiles when trying to convince me of something?" She asked.

"Always," he assured her.

She smiled, but he saw that she wasn't prepared to follow that up with anything today. A month ago he knew exactly where this kind of teasing would have led, but not right now. There was still a line in the sand between them, but he had heard some real signs of life from the cat in the box.

He couldn't say he wasn't a bit disappointed, but at the same time it was so much better than the breakup he had suspected was going to happen in the other room. She had sounded like she was going to put an end to everything personal between them, but she had explained she just wanted to put a pause on things. He couldn't disagree with her really – things had gotten a bit out of control. All of Woolsey's knowledge of Athos had hammered home the truth of how little John had been doing his job during all of his visits to Athos for the last year or so.

He'd gotten so caught up in carnal delights that he'd kind of forgotten the fact that he had been representing Atlantis here on Athos. Trips here had been all about just getting to be alone with Teyla in her old quarters, and then falling into bed as quickly as possible. They had been hours of laughter and holding her, and he didn't regret a second of them, but it couldn't have gone on like that forever. And it had been part of the reason why he'd gone and made his offer on her wedding day. It had worked out great for Atlantis and Earth in the end, but he was damn lucky that it had. If she'd turned him down, how would Woolsey and Colonel Carter have reacted once they heard?

Even without the wedding, what would have happened had Colonel Sumner and Colonel Carter found out that he'd been fraternizing with someone from the Elite, a group who could, from Sumner's viewpoint at least, be a potential enemy in the future? He had been spending his work hours, in potential hostile territory, in bed, not on guard, not gathering intell, or talking strategy. Instead he'd been counting Teyla's tattoos...with his tongue.

No, right now he and Teyla needed to play it safe. Too many eyes were on them, and he could just imagine the gossip. Ford had made it clear he knew something was going on, Colonel Carter suspected, and maybe even the President had asked the question? It wasn't worth thinking about his love life being splashing across two galaxies. Yet, here he was, in a Political Marriage. He'd made the offer without asking anyone's opinion, let alone getting permission to join Earth into this contract.

He'd acted without thinking. Considering what had happened in the past, he would have thought he'd learnt not to do that anymore. However, unlike back then, this spontaneous gamble had paid off, so far.

He and Teyla needed to play things cool, find their footing with this new being married and a political figure thing.

How 'The Feelings' were going to play into this, he had no idea.

She'd said she loved him, and he knew damn well that he loved her. He'd loved her for a long time. Despite her asking for time, he could hear life from inside the box, so for now, he would see how things go.

And maybe keep testing things a little; keep shaking that box. He wouldn't want the cat to go falling asleep...or worse.

"So, he said into the silent pause, "is this military celebration going to a very formal thing?" He asked, wondering if he should have worn his Blues after all today.

"Not at all," she replied with real feeling.

He grinned at that. "Really?"

"It is a _very_ relaxed affair, a time for warriors to enjoy their victory and celebrate together," she smiled. Clearly she liked these big military parties.

"A real shindig, huh?" He smiled back. "I'm looking forward to it already."

"And I have a particular idea on how we can begin 'Operation Cunning Plan' while we are there," she added.

"Cool." Though admittedly, he felt a tad nervous too. He was going to be seen by a lot of Alliance military and no doubt everyone would know who he was by the end of the party.

Though, if he remembered correctly, almost the entire Military Fleet had been involved in the Nest battle, so that meant a huge number of people would be at this thing. Hopefully he wouldn't have to talk to all of them!

"Will Si, Oneakka, and Halling be there?" He asked hopefully. He'd feel better if they were there, being familiar faces and the kind of people who would step in if something went wrong during the party.

"All of the Elite from the Sythus will be there, except Halling, who has decided to remain on the Sythus this evening," she frowned lightly at that and then continued. "And all the crew from the Sythus, so many familiar faces for you."

"Great," he did feel better now. Mostly.

"I have no doubt you will see another side to our Military and hopefully this evening will assist us with our plans," she squeezed his arm, her hand having stayed tucked up against his elbow. "Which reminds me," she said as she slid her hand from his arm and picked up her pad again. "We were going to add space ship shield technology to the technology list."

"Sure," John replied as he returned his attention to his pad, though a wash of tiredness passed over him as he did.

Maybe it was the excessively comfy couch, maybe it was the effect of Ketra's continuing snores, or maybe it was because things felt better with Teyla. The last few weeks had not been great. He could admit to himself now that he'd been pretty stressed about it all – not knowing if their next meeting would end in more arguments, that she might regret her choice in husband, and then having to go to the big meal with her family. In the end it had all worked out fine, and Teyla seemed relieved too. He could practically see the relief in her face and eyes, and inside he felt something relax that had been coiled up tight and nervous since the moment she had told him she was going to married another guy.

Things had, fortunately, turned out great, but he just had to make sure that he didn't do anything that might ruin things. He was sure the Colonels and General O'Neill would be pleased with the list of ideas he and Teyla had worked on today, and tomorrow the IOA's new diplomats would be meeting Torren. So, things were going okay.

He just had to hope that they stayed that way.

For now though, he was in a good position...literally. He was comfortable, had new In-Laws who were all nice people, a pet dragon asleep on his feet, and a beautiful alien warrior princess as his new wife.

He didn't know how he had managed to have all of this, but he was determined not to mess it up.

00000

 _Elite Training Facility_

The Recruits had all finished their Late Meal some time ago, the canteen emptying. Then a second smaller wave had started turning up, these Recruits sitting by themselves, heads bent over tablets with an intense focus that suggested to Seeal that there was some test or exam paper due soon.

She watched one such focused Recruit, who, one of the first to arrive, had selected a seat to one side of the canteen, his back to the side wall and his full attention fixed on his computer tablet. He hadn't touched his half eaten snack for some time now. Seeal watched him reaching out blindly for his drink without taking his eyes off his tablet. His fingers finally located the mug, slid around it, but held still. She watched him frown at his tablet's screen – something he was reading did not compute for the young trainee Elite.

She estimated he was sixteen or seventeen cycles old.

His frown became deeply thoughtful as he lifted his eyes from the tablet and looked up towards the ceiling, but all his attention was clearly focused internally as his brain worked through whatever it was he was learning or analysing.

The hand finally lifted the mug to his lips and he grimaced a little, probably because the formally hot drink had to be cold by now, but he kept drinking. He stopped, looked back down at the tablet and set the mug quickly aside as he tapped the tablet screen.

She had never considered Elite warriors to be studious before. Sure, she'd seen Oneakka's massive collection of reading material in his quarters on the Sythus, but clearly learning random things was a hobby of his, but as she glanced around at the other studying Elite Recruits dotted around the canteen, it was obvious that this was part of their training.

She'd seen plenty of them training in the gyms, seen them jogging through the hallways, had even watched a group of them run a simulated invasion of the canteen once. Judging by the lack of reaction from the rest of the canteen customers, it wasn't that unusual. It had sure taken her by surprise when a group of Recruits had burst into the room, fanning out in a clear military formation, covering all angles with their weapons, and radioing back and forward to each other.

No one else had batted an eye, so she's let her heart rate drop and had instead watched with more interest as the Elite trainer had turned up and talked his trainees through what they had done wrong.

She'd also seen some atmosphere suit training outside through the Facility's windows. The planet or moon that housed this Facility had a very thin atmosphere and an excessively barren landscape. Clearly the Elite took full advantage of that, and she quite regularly saw Recruits rappelling down past a window, or a group of them moving in formation across a nearby plateau in their atmosphere suits.

What she'd hadn't appreciated was this studious training of the brain, which had these Recruits up late frowning down at their work. She had known they had lessons on tactics, but she'd never thought much about book work. Sure, she'd been doing her own learning here now that she had full access to the very latest in technology and science journals and research articles. She'd learnt more here in the last month than she'd learnt in the last ten years working for Creass. Working here had been feeding her brain as much as it did provide her with somewhere to stay and work for a while.

While she worked out what the hell she was going to do with her life now she was free of her criminal record.

By her best estimate, the research project to develop a new computer operating system was going to take a good year, perhaps more, to finally get the thing fully useable. But a year could go by so fast and then what would she do? It wasn't like she had a nice clear career history to show people when she applied for a job within the Alliance. Sure she'd had a few passing offers already – from Pyaban and Saoka, but they represented the slightly shady side of things; they weren't overtly criminal, but they were hardly clean. Though working for them might be a logical step for someone with her history, and Pyaban in particular made up his security teams and intelligence gathering workforce with people with her kind of background, she didn't want that kind of future anymore.

She had her clean record and she wasn't about to go losing it. She was determined to be on the right side of things now. She'd seen the difference the Alliance, and especially the Elite, were achieving against the Wraith. Because of them, millions lived and flourished within the Alliance borders, and each day more worlds and systems were liberated from the Wraith. She wanted to be part of that work, or at least to be working within the Alliance, and while she was working for the Elite she was able to do something to help in the battle against the Wraith. However, once her assignment here was over, she had no idea what she'd do.

She wasn't sure what kind of life would feel as fulfilling as her time on the Sythus had been.

Perhaps the Elite would offer her some other work after the current research project was complete, but then she had to ask herself whether she wanted to live permanently on this desolate planet/moon.

She really needed to ask Oneakka whether it was a planet or a moon.

She should know where she was living, but that was some of the problem. She was a working _guest_ really. She had no access to information other than the research database. She didn't know the operational functions of this Facility, and she didn't have access to the main computer systems.

This place was a safe and educational haven to stay and work, but it was also somewhat alien to her too.

She was used to being the one with the information back on Dreamstation. What she didn't know she would find out. Even on the Sythus, she'd been able to hack into the computers and have a look around, even work on their database research. But here, she had one job and that was it.

Looking around at the Recruits studiously silent around the large canteen, she had to admit that she was out of place and felt adrift. She hadn't realised how much until this evening, not until she had seen Oneakka again and started working on this research with him.

This was what she enjoyed – seeking out information, finding secrets and investigating those who tried to hide. As much as she found the research project to create the new computer operating system intellectually challenging and enjoyable, the rest of her life felt somewhat lacking. Now that the Recruits had made their move, and it was clear that she wasn't going to be fired because of the 'incident', life looked somewhat boring.

She glanced away from the children studying their monsters and future battles, to the empty seat beside her. Oneakka had left a short while ago to go 'check on something'; she suspected his boredom had gotten the better of him. Though, he'd seemed more relaxed since their conversation earlier.

She was glad she had brought it up, because she had been worried that it might become 'an issue'.

Seeing him again had made it plainly clear that her former attraction to him back on the Sythus was not so former. She would admit that he had many admirable qualities, not the least of which was his infamous warrior status, but also attributes like his intelligence, humour, playful banter, and, yes, he was clearly a very attractive male. She could accept those things about him as long as they didn't start _confusing_ things between her and Oneakka. There was no way that she was going to enslave herself to another male, centring her life around what he wanted and where he was – she had done that with Ulfur, Creass, and even her pit fight instructor. Now she was finally properly free, she wasn't about to base her new big life decisions around another male, as admirable as he may be.

She was free and she wasn't about to go risking that freedom before she even had a chance to explore it.

She was free to go anywhere, see anything, and be anything now.

She just wished she knew what the hell to do with all that freedom.

Oneakka had called her a fighter, and he was right. She'd been fighting against the Universe and the idiots in it since the day she had been born and immediately declared a curse upon her people. Even as a little child she had needed to deal with hostility from the big Glisi, who had verbally abused her, thrown things and spat at her. She'd had her first fights before she'd even been able to read or write properly. She'd spent most of her early years living mostly by herself with only her father as her advocate, her mother simply tolerating her, and her brother, Ulfur, outright hating her. Then Father had been murdered and she'd been chased off the Glisi homeworld, Ulfur with her, who had wailed and cried for years afterwards as they had survived on the streets of various planets. She'd had to steal their food, trade what little they had, and fight off the older children who had wanted things she was never going to sell.

Becoming a pit fighter had changed everything for her. She'd earned money, been properly trained in the arts she had learnt from instinct and life experience, and had started to grow up in more ways than one. Then, after finally walking away from the criminal scum that Ulfur had become, she'd found herself on Dreamstation, keeping even worse scum in order. Each day on Dreamstation had been about watching enemies, stopping fights, or, if one started, making sure they finished in the right way. Even her liberation from that life through the Elite had been a fight – mostly against Oneakka and his opinion of her - but she'd fought and gotten her clean record far quicker than she had anticipated.

She had won.

But what did a fighter do when she had nothing left to fight?

She frowned at the problem, her gaze sliding back to the equally confused looking Recruit. He didn't look like he was getting anywhere with understanding what he was reading.

Idly she wondered what would happen if she sat down next to him and asked what he was working on.

Wow, she really was bored here.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was pity. These Recruits, they lived their lives immersed in their studies. They spent their entire lives, young as they still were, turning themselves into weapons. Once free of this place, they had monsters to fight that most intelligent people would hope to never meet, but these young people had dedicated their lives to battling those monsters. According to Oneakka, one third of them wouldn't survive five years once they graduated.

What kind of statistic was that? These were children around her, true they were almost, or just, adults and, admittedly, she'd seen more than enough action by the time she was their age, but surely there had to be a better way?

Of course she knew that it was because of Recruits trained into warriors like the Elite crew of the Sythus that the Alliance continued to remain free of the Wraith. Someone had to fight the Wraith face-to-face and these children had volunteered. Oneakka said they were free to leave at any point. However, if they had anything close to Oneakka's character, then they would probably be too bull-headed to leave, seeing it as giving up and failing.

One third of all of those Recruits she'd seen crowded in here earlier for their Late Meal would be dead within five years of leaving. And not dying in their sleep, no they would most likely be bloody, horrific deaths. She'd faced Wraith herself, even managed to kill a Queen to save Oneakka and Halling, and she had the tattoo to remember it by, but she was not looking to repeat that any day soon. These children actually were looking for the opportunity to collect those tattoos by facing Wraith Queens.

Seeal had used to think the Elite were crazy, obsessed, stupid warriors, and, though she now knew that view was far from the truth, she couldn't help see these Recruits as rather crazy. They had to know how short their lives were likely to be, yet they were here, not only learning, but pouring their minds and time into that learning, all to become the best weapons they could in order to stop the Wraith.

They understood what they were doing and what it would do to them, but she found herself pitying them.

And admiring them.

She'd never had that much passion for anything in her life, that kind of purpose.

She rather envied them that drive right now. Who knew where she would end up in a year or two's time?

Looking away from the Recruits and their focus, she noticed that Oneakka had returned to the canteen, but was stood talking with an Elite she hadn't seen before. The female Elite was a good two foot shorter than Oneakka, and though her back was turned to Seeal, it was clear that she was of a very mature age. Her hand that gestured through the air looked thin and her skin uneven with age, but the dark tattoos along her hands and down the back of her neck made it clear she was an Elite. She had the determined posture of an Elite and, despite her age, she was wearing about three guns on her hips, which was something of a giveaway.

She had to be the eldest Elite that Seeal had seen. Of those Elite who were too injured to fight, most worked in the Facility. Why they had retired from action was usually obvious – missing limbs, eyes, horrifically burnt skin or deep scars, and several moved around on wheeled chairs having lost the use of their lower bodies. However, this aged Elite showed no obvious sign of her retirement, unless it had been her age.

Seeal watched Oneakka's face as he listened to the elderly Elite. They were right across the canteen, but Seeal could see he was smiling and nodding, his manner almost respectful.

She watched the exchange for a few moments more, seeing the elder Elite reach out and pat Oneakka's arm before she moved away. Oneakka in turn bowed his head and touched the woman's arm as she passed by him and left the canteen.

Oneakka then turned and faced Seeal, and began marching his way back across the canteen. As if he emanated some sort of warning alarm, the Recruits in the canteen all seemed to know he was back in the room and on the move. Seeal saw them glancing around, peering over their tablets, or lowering their head in the case of one Recruit who was sat close to where Oneakka strode across the canteen.

Seeal could see why the Recruits would be nervous, because Oneakka, like he always did, stomped across the room as if there was an enemy on the other side. There wasn't, it was just her and the research they had spent hours collating, and she was now his 'friend', so the stomping wasn't required. Unless the research was perceived as his enemy. That might be true, she considered as she glanced down at the pads in front of her, realising that she had hardly achieved anything new since he'd been away. Instead she'd been too busy contemplating the Recruits', and her own, future.

She looked back up to see that Oneakka was almost upon her, and realised that he had changed his top. The body armour was gone and in its place was a dark blue top that was sleeveless, which appeared to always be his preference, and was quite tight. It clung to his chest and abdomen like a second skin, with only two darker bands of material crossing over his chest as a distraction to the play of musculature under the fabric.

She made herself look down at the pad she had idly picked up.

It was good that they had had their discussion and that matters were nice and clear between them now, but she kind of wished that he would be less attractive. She glanced up again from under her brow as he arrived at the other side of their table and moved around it. Nope, still all male and muscle.

Though, she noticed that he was wearing fewer weapons than earlier, just one gun in each thigh holster – that was unlike him. As was the tight top and, as he slid back into his seat at her side, the fragrant smell that drifted around him.

He had put on a nice smell? When did she ever remember him doing that?

"You planning on going somewhere?" She asked him, making sure there wasn't even the tiniest amount of envy in her tone. He could go where he wanted.

Somewhere where he clearly wanted to look and smell nice.

Not that it was of any interest to her really.

He could go where he wanted. With whomever he wanted.

"Find anything new?" He asked, ignoring her question.

She hated it when he did that.

"Who was that Elite you were just talking with?" She did the same back to him.

"Efosa," he replied, surprising her with the quick answer and with a subtle softening of his expression when he had said her name. "She was one of my teachers when I was a Recruit here," he supplied.

By Seeal's estimate, Oneakka was probably about the same age as she was, perhaps a few years older – it was always difficult to tell with people from other planets – but that would mean that his training had to be almost two decades ago. Even back then the Elite in question had to be mature in years as a teacher.

"She's the oldest Elite I've seen so far," Seeal commented, wondering if this was perhaps a topic the Elite didn't discuss all that much, since most of them didn't get even close to that age.

But, Oneakka's expression softened again, and a smile pulled at his lips as he picked up the main pad onto which they had been gathering their research. "Efosa taught me one of my most important lessons in life."

Now that sounded very interesting. "Oh?" Seeal pushed.

He slid his blue gaze, which seemed even brighter than normal above the deep blue of his new top. "To never underestimate females."

"I like her already," Seeal replied. "Did she teach strategy?"

"And combat skills," he answered. "Did you find anything else?" He asked, returning to his previous question.

Seeal wasn't about to be distracted by that question, she sensed something more behind the story of Efosa. "Did she used to kick your arse when you were a young Recruit?"

"Repeatedly," Oneakka confirmed.

There was more to it than that, Seeal was almost certain. She was getting good at reading Oneakka. "And?"

The blue eyes shifted back to her from the pad in his hand.

She waited.

He frowned, but answered her. "She was the Elite who recruited me when I was a child."

"Ah," Seeal nodded. "I see. A Substitute Mother for you."

He coughed out a laugh at that though. "Hardly. She demanded the highest standards and was the hardest task master I've ever had."

"Sounds like my mother to me," Seeal muttered as she turned her attention to her pad. "In answer to your question, I have found two more names from that latest shipping manifest."

She offered him the pad and he took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. It was good that such accidental physical contact didn't mean anything anymore.

She pulled her hand back onto her lap and pretended that her fingers didn't feel warm where he'd touched them.

He scowled at her results. "Both of these people are dead," he exclaimed unhappily.

"So?" She asked, annoyed at him, and her warm fingers.

"How can they help us?"

"It's not like we're looking to ask them anything," she replied quickly. "They're just a link in a chain of interest."

He frowned.

"Who were their associates? How did they die?" She suggested some obvious questions to be answered.

"This research is getting further and further away from the original names we are investigating," Oneakka pointed out what was actually very true.

The lines were getting tenuous from the original names Oneakka had given her. She had to wonder if she was perhaps drawing out this research just to keep it going a little longer. Was that because it was something more interesting than her empty evenings here? Was it because she was determined to find out as much data as possible that Robiah had missed? Or was it to draw out her time with Oneakka?

She suspected the obvious answer was all three reasons, plus she didn't usually stop her research until she found someone very interesting. This research was drying up, but she and Oneakka had found a long list of names for Robiah and his Division cronies to investigate.

"Still, they're all names that Robiah didn't have," she reminded him.

"True," Oneakka agreed with surprising willingness.

She frowned at that.

He began sliding out and up from his seat. "It is more than enough for Division to use."

He was calling an end to the work.

"I can find more," she offered, feeling her stomach dropping a little. Was it over?

Oneakka moved around to the other side of the table, clearly ready to leave. Probably off to wherever he was going that required him to smell so nice.

"I'm sure you can," he agreed, again seeming willing to praise her skills, which was unlike him. Or was the discussion they had earlier now letting him feel more relaxed to praise her work?

"Do you need a jacket?" He asked.

She frowned up at him and his completely unexpected question. "Why would I need a jacket?" She asked. The temperature in the canteen was regulated at a comfortable level, as was the whole Facility, and she didn't feel the cold like most people. It was one tiny benefit of her Glisi heritage.

"People wear jackets to keep warm," he explained with a smug smile.

She glared up at him. "I know _why_ people wear them, why would _I_ need one now?" She pushed, refusing to let him win.

"Because we're going through the Portal," he answered, clearly purposefully not telling her everything. He appeared to be enjoying not sharing all he knew.

She crossed her arms. "Why would I want to go anywhere with you?" She asked, though the excitement bubbled to life in her chest. Wherever he was going, she was getting to go with him. Were they going on a mission somewhere? Maybe to make an arrest? Or something else entirely? She kept her cool though.

"It's a Military celebration," he answered directly. "Everyone who was part of the victory at the Nest System is invited to attend. Even you," he added as a last beat, as if she were an abnormality.

She decided to ignore the teasing bait, and instead got up from her chair quickly, allowing the excitement free. "Will there be snow there?" She asked him.

"No," he answered with a frown.

"Then, no, I will not need a jacket, but it's ever so nice of you to ask," she told him as she moved around the table. "It shows that you care about my well being," she smiled sarcastically at him as she joined him on the other side of the table from their abandoned seats.

He looked thrown for a second, as if he wasn't sure how to banter back. She had won that round of verbal sparring. Good.

"We're going to be late to meet up with everyone on the other side of the Portal," he decided on instead and turned away, stomping off again across the canteen.

She glanced down at their table though, pads and tablets of research left on the surface. "What about our research?" She asked as she hurriedly after him, slipping between the backs of chairs. "We can't leave it just lying around."

"Why not?" Oneakka asked. "No one will touch it."

She glanced back over her shoulder. She guessed that was true here. No Recruits would ever dream of touching anything of Oneakka's, and pretty much everything in the Facility, including its location, was already secure.

Still, it was strange to leave it there on the table as she followed him across and out of the canteen. Back on Dream, or pretty much anywhere else in the galaxy, she wouldn't even conceive of leaving such confidential information unattended.

Life really was very different in the Elite's Training Facility.

A thought occurred to her as she fell into step with Oneakka, purposefully keeping the same fast pace as him so that she walked at his side, not behind him. She wanted people to get the right impression.

"Do you want me to collect up the research later or tomorrow, or will you?" She asked.

"I will," he answered. "Unless you think of something else to add to it later. You're free to leave the celebration whenever you want. Madesh and the Sythus crew will be there."

Her heart lifted again. "It will be good to Madesh. He did say he would see me soon in his last transmission," she realised. "I thought it was just a polite saying."

"Transmission?" Oneakka asked, looking round at her for the first time since they'd left their table back in the canteen. He strode through the hallways at the same fast determined pace.

"We've been messaging each other these past weeks," she replied. "Now with you, I have two friends in the Alliance."

Oneakka nodded at that, but said nothing else, just kept striding through the Facility. They would be heading towards the transports to take them to this planet/moon's Portal and through to whatever planet/moon it was that was holding this celebration. She had heard rumours at Dreamstation about big Alliance Military celebrations from time-to-time. They were seen as golden opportunities for smugglers as large parts of the Military fleet, as well as ground soldiers, all converged at their celebration. The only problem was that the location was secret and the celebration day seemed somewhat spontaneous, so they were difficult to predict.

"So, where is this celebration?" She asked.

"An isolated, unimportant planet," Oneakka answered. He seemed less inclined towards banter while they were in the hallways – maybe because it was more public and anyone passing by could overhear them.

"I see," she replied though, refusing to be completely silent when she had questions. "Is there any protocol I should be aware of for this thing?" She checked. "I wouldn't want to get into any _trouble_." After all he had kept warning her to stay out of such trouble.

The corner of his lips lifted slightly. "It is informal, but I would recommend that you stay with Madesh and others that you know from the Sythus. Some within the military ranks may have heard of you-"

"And follow the same approach as the Recruits here," she nodded, appreciating the warning. A large number of soldiers together nearly always led to scuffles, it was common knowledge, and she could be seen as an easy target by some drunk Alliance solider. She could easily defend herself, but it would be best not to start anything that might lead to a drunken riot at the celebration.

Though, Oneakka's suggestion also implied that he wouldn't staying with the Sythus crew at the celebration. He would probably be going off with his fellow Elite. So, this might be the last time she had alone with him for awhile.

"So, are you heading off on a new mission after tonight?" She asked as casually as she could. "I'm happy to keep working on the research with Division if you are."

He gave her a look as they turned a corner. "You communicating directly with Robiah?" He asked doubtfully. "No," he concluded firmly. "It won't be a problem, anyway; I'm planning to stay in the Facility until the Sythus is ready."

He was going to be staying here in the Facility?

"Oh," she said casually.

She wished she wasn't quite so thrilled at the news.

They turned one final corner and in the near distance she could see the lobby leading to the individual docking bays for the transports to the Portal. At one, she could see a Recruit ready and waiting, the female's back ramrod straight. Yep, that would be the poor Recruit designated to fly Oneakka out to the Portal. Seeal imagined it would be the most nerve racking job for these Recruits.

Before they entered the lobby and the Recruit and others could hear, Seeal had time to get in one last comment to Oneakka.

"That should give me plenty of time to teach you how to high kick," she announced.

Oneakka reacted better than she had planned. He had been repeatedly scalding about her having used a high kick during the 'incident' with the Recruits. She'd tried to argue with him that there were plenty of situations in which, even he, might use a high kick in a fight. He had successfully argued against each situation she had presented.

He glared at her. "I do not need to be taught how to high kick," he said sternly. "Because it's a stupid move."

She grinned as they headed across the lobby, the Recruit's poor spine looking like it might snap.

"I think you just can't kick that high," Seeal countered and increased her speed to arrive at the Recruit pilot and the transport ahead of Oneakka and preventing him from replying without the Recruit hearing.

Smiling at her little victory, Seeal slid into one of the seats in the almost entirely transparent little transport vessel and waited for Oneakka to join her.

Today had turned out to be quite good so far, assuming she didn't meet any trouble at this military celebration, it could almost be called a perfect day. She'd not only defeated her fears in climbing that rope all the way to the very top, forcing away the fearful memories from the Sythus and the robot, but she'd clearly outdone Robiah with the research, she'd cleared up things with Oneakka, and she was even going to get to spend a little time with Madesh.

And Oneakka was going to be around for awhile too.

Suddenly her somewhat boring life had become interesting again.

As Oneakka settled in the seat next to her, his larger size actually taking up two of the three seats in the back of the small transport, Seeal looked out the side of the transport to the cavern below.

"So," she asked Oneakka as the Recruit started up the engines of the transport, "is this a planet or a moon?

00000  
TBC


	19. Looking through New Eyes

**Note:** Only four chapters left of this "little" interlude fic. All four chapters are written, just need final editing, so I should be able to publish them all this week. Thank you to those still reading, I hope there are still a few! Once this fic is complete, I will be able to focus on starting the new big fic – plenty of hints, as well as obvious pointers, as to what that big fic will hold, but for now, this interlude needs to be completed. Please let me know if you enjoy it.

00000

 **Chapter 19 – Looking Through New Eyes**

 _Tjaru, Athos_

The door to Teyla's quarters was closed. It would be unusual if it were open, but Zabetha could not help but read its closure as a good sign today. Pausing at the far end of the short corridor to Teyla's quarters, Zabetha listened closely.

She could not hear any shouting, but though the walls of the new quarters building were thick and soundproof, of which she and Rhakshar were grateful, the doors were not quite as thin.

Zabetha looked down the staircase she had just climbed up to this second level - no one was around to see her hesitating.

She had promised to inform Teyla when it was close to time for her, John, and Lieutenant Ford to depart from Athos. Zabetha had left it as late as she dared, wishing to give the new couple as much time alone as possible.

If they had repaired their romance, that might be particularly appreciated, or if they had simply managed to repair their friendship it would still be very good news. That they hadn't reappeared in the last two hours had to be a good sign.

She peered back down the stairs again – no one else was about.

As Father's second daughter, and deputy in all matters of running the official matters of Athos, Zabetha had to present the appearance of absolute propriety and emotional control. It was a role she had taken on eagerly from her youth, no doubt to fill the absence of Mother and Teyla having left so young to train with the Elite. Father had always been somewhere in the complex to visit, but his work serving their people had been demanding on his time. After Teyla had left, Zabetha had been allowed to stay by Father's side as he worked, and she had absorbed everything she could about helping him ever since.

As an adult, she could see that she had done so in order to try and make herself a fixed and required part of Father's life, for she had feared that he too, like Mother and Teyla, would leave her. So, she had stayed close to him, asking questions, listening and learning everything she could. As she had gotten older, that need had become a true interest, perhaps even an obsession, to help look after their people. It was also an attempt on her part to help Father lessen his own sadness, which could still be seen in his eyes when he thought no one around. He had a great responsibility to look after their people, but he had lost his wife and his eldest daughter could likely join the Ancestors as well at any time.

Working with Father had also helped Zabetha, unhealthily so perhaps, to ignore her former resentment towards her absent Sister and replacement Mother figure, and then the loss of any chance of her own biological children in the future due to the damages of illness. Work had been an escape from all that, and she had forged herself into the best, most composed and thoughtful politician she could be.

The only time her emotional pain had broken through had been when Teyla had visited Tjaru, which had been quite infrequent in those days. During those visits, the resentment and suppressed hurt had made Zabetha pick arguments with Teyla, hating the overly composed and distant being her sister had become. The irony of which was that she had in fact been like that herself, though without Teyla's Elite demeanour. For both of them, life had not been about feelings, it had been about work.

That was until Rhakshar had entered Zabetha's life.

She smiled at just the thought of her beloved. He had given her the opportunity to open her heart, to love and be loved openly, and to have a new element of her life that was not tied to her past pain. It had taken her a little while to accept his love, and to raise the courage to tell him of her inability to conceive a child, but he had not left her as a result. He had no desperate drive to have biological children of his own, and said he was honestly happy to spend the rest of his days with her alone. They had discussed perhaps one day adopting a child, but for now, they had each other alone to enjoy. And with him, she was able to be her true self, emotionally open and honest.

That new honesty had eventually spread to include Teyla, who had been equally ready to repair past pain. They had shared their stories, and shared their grief in losing Mother. Zabetha had seen that she still meant a great deal to her sister and, in turn, she had never stopped loving Teyla. She had even felt able to share the fact that she was unable to have children, revealing her pain at being unable to continue their family lineage. This was a particularly heavy weight considering Teyla's life career, which meant that she was highly unlikely to have children, and most likely would not live to a mature age.

Zabetha pushed away that thought, happy to suppress that particular fear for now. She frequently spoke of it with Rhakshar, let him comfort her and support her, but she was determined to now focus on the positive with Teyla. Their sisterhood had grown in strength and depth in the last year, and it appeared, hopefully, that even Teyla might have found someone to love and be herself with.

Zabetha had detected early on when she had first seen Teyla and John Sheppard interact that there had been more than simple friendship and curiosity between the two. She had not seen Teyla ever show such interest in a man before, and Zabetha had watched with delight as the signs had grown that the two had stepped from being simply friends to being lovers.

However, that new status had not lasted very long, and Teyla's decision to enter into a Political Marriage had come as a shock to the whole family. What most did not know, and Zabetha had not shared with anyone other than Rhakshar, was that she had overheard the end of a particularly angry argument between the couple the day before the wedding ceremony. Teyla had finally told John about her plans to marry and it had not gone well.

Zabetha had been descending the staircase she had just come up, when she had overheard the shouted end of the couple's argument. She had then heard Teyla go back into her old quarters and then a loud crash had followed. Zabetha had stood in shock at the sound, surely from an outburst of Teyla's. Worried that perhaps Teyla might have hurt herself, or need comfort, Zabetha had been about to descend the stairs, but had heard Teyla exit her quarters and storm away down the corridor.

Zabetha had returned to her own quarters, feeling quite shocked at the outburst she had overheard. After a short wait, she had headed to Teyla's quarters, hoping her sister had returned and that she might be able to offer some comfort and support. However, Teyla had not answered, so Zabetha had entered anyway, only to find that Teyla had not returned. Instead, she had found the source of the crash she had heard earlier – the broken plant pot and soil scattered across the floor.

She had never once, even in their earliest years, seen Teyla lose her temper in such a fashion. Teyla had always been composed, even when young, and to see such evidence of it then, had proven to Zabetha how significant Teyla's feelings for John Sheppard had become.

So, she had done what little she could, she had tidied up the plant, cleaned away the mess, and had not spoken of it to Teyla, knowing her sister would be deeply embarrassed at her loss of control. Zabetha had instead thrown herself into overseeing the wedding, making sure the stressful event be as easy for Teyla as possible, but then the best outcome had happened; John had presented an Offer and Teyla had accepted.

All the family had been pleased, and it had been truly the best outcome, not only for Athos in terms of trade and advancement in the Alliance, but for the entire fight against the Wraith, and, most especially, for Teyla.

Zabetha suspected her sister was somewhat unsettled by her own feelings for her new Husband, but today's meal had indicated that the couple were on good terms again. Or, at least, not arguing and throwing things.

Zabetha had tried to hide her delight as she had noted how frequently Teyla and John had looked at each other throughout the meal, and Teyla had been quite protective of John. The smiles that the couple had shared had appeared relatively relaxed and honest.

The signs were positive, as had been their absence these past two hours, but the time was almost upon them to leave Athos, and Zabetha could not give them any more time alone. So, she headed down the corridor to Teyla's closed door and, regretfully, triggered the bell to disturb the couple.

She heard Teyla call with permission to enter and Zabetha triggered open the door, wrapping her usual composure around herself once more.

The door opened to the pleasing sight of Teyla and John sitting together on one of the sofas, Ketra waking up from a deep sleep at John's feet.

Zabetha was almost certain she had seen Teyla's hand slid off John's arm as the door had opened.

"Excuse my interruption," Zabetha smiled at them, ensuring that she did not grin excitedly as she wanted to, "but you wished to know when the time was approaching for you to depart Athos."

"Thank you, Sister," Teyla smiled in return, appearing very relaxed. "We have finished our work anyway."

John had a pad in his hand. They had been working on something together – that was good, not sharing intimacy perhaps, but it was still a very good sign.

Ketra, who had clambered upright from her sleep, now hurried across the floor and Zabetha reached down to greet the pet. "Hello, Ketra," she stroked Ketra's warm and bright silver head and neck.

As Teyla and John rose from the sofa, they spoke quickly with each other, the conversation very relaxed.

"I shall show you where you can contact Atlantis downstairs," Teyla stated as she moved towards her ever present weaponry and began pulling on her scabbard harness. "I shall contact the Training Facility first, see if I can put in the request for the visit to see Dr Beckett."

"We'd be grateful for any help," John replied as he stood. He subtly adjusted his jacket and brushed down his sleeves, appearing both a little concerned at his appearance but also comfortable to do so with others present. Another very good sign.

"Zabetha?" Teyla asked, drawing Zabetha's full attention to her. "Would you look after Ketra while I am off world this evening? Father had agreed, but he has messaged me that his meeting this evening will go on longer than predicted."

"Of course," Zabetha smiled as she patted Ketra's muscular reptilian side.

"Ketra," Teyla called to her pet. "You need to stay in here for now, but Zabetha will be back and will take good care of you this evening," she explained in depth to the creature as she slid both her swords into their scabbards on her back and a stunner into a holster on her thigh.

Ketra seemed to understand enough to pad away from Zabetha and move towards Teyla.

Teyla, now donned in her Elite attire once more, pointed to the sofa. "You can sleep on that sofa, but only that one, while we are away. John," she directed her attention to her new Husband, "could you pass the blanket by the foot of the sofa."

John retrieved the blanket, "To cover the sofa?" He asked as he already began to open it out.

"Yes, please," Teyla smiled at him. "I have agreed to let her sleep on that one piece of furniture."

"Yeah, because we all believe you keep to that agreement," John whispered loudly down to Ketra who had padded to his side and was watching him open up the blanket.

Zabetha smiled as she watched Ketra look up at John with what looked like real affection, and was confirmed by the bright shine of her glowing skin. Ketra clearly adored Teyla's new Husband.

John laid the blanket over the sofa, Teyla adjusting the corner closest to her, and Zabetha held in her smile at their shared task.

Ketra didn't climb up onto the sofa though, instead turning with them as Teyla and John moved away from the sofa.

"No, Ketra," Teyla said softly, "you are to stay here for now."

Ketra held back, but did not look happy about it.

John paused and ran a hand over Ketra's head. "I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully," he told the pet and glanced at Teyla for confirmation. Tomorrow Atlantis and Earth were sending their official representatives, but it appeared that John hoped to see Ketra, and perhaps spend time alone with Teyla again.

Another very good sign.

"You shall see John again tomorrow," Teyla promised Ketra as she headed towards Zabetha and the door.

"Be good," John added as he scratched one of Ketra's ears quickly and then followed.

Zabetha moved back out of the quarters, looking back in at Ketra. "I shall return shortly, Ketra," Zabetha promised as turned to walk down the corridor, pausing a moment so to fall into step with John.

"Do you approve of your new quarters, John?" She asked, Teyla following them a pace or two behind.

John smiled, but there was that same faint caution in his eyes that had been present during the family meal. "They're really great," he smiled again. He had a very expressive and handsome face, though not as regally strong as her Rhakshar.

"If you do wish to use any of the spare furniture for your lounge, please do ask. I can draw up a list of what is available if you would like, perhaps we, or Teyla, could show them to you tomorrow if you have time?"

"That'll be great, thanks," he smiled back. She could see that he felt cautious with her, as he had always been with her and Father, but she could tell that it was a sign of respect.

"You are welcome to stay in Tjaru at any time," she told John, reiterating Father's comments earlier. John was not fully aware of all the details of a Political Husband, or at least how the role was utilised on Athos. "Whether my Honoured Sister is here or not, you are always welcome," Zabetha reminded him, smiling at him happily.

"Thanks," John nodded.

"There will also be quarters available close by for anyone else you bring with you, such as Lieutenant Ford," she added. "If you do not wish them to stay with you in your quarters." Since he and Teyla might wish to spend time alone.

"And your Honour Guard will always take station around the Family Complex, as they have today," Teyla put in from behind them.

John glanced round at her. "Yes, Dear," he smiled.

Zabetha was unsure exactly what that comment or name meant, but she could tell that John meant it as a joke, teasing Teyla for her concerns about his safety. It was another excellent sign that matters were indeed greatly improved between them.

"If you ever have any questions about Athos, or the Alliance, and Teyla is not here, please always feel free to ask me," Zabetha instructed John. "You are my Brother by Marriage now and I would hope that you feel comfortable here."

"Thank you, Zabetha," John replied and his smile seemed warmer.

"And please do feel free to accept Rhakshar's family's offer of an official visit," she added, "or I will not hear the end of it from his parents," she confessed. She did not usually speak so with officials or visitors, but she was hoping to forge closer ties with John and it was his way to joke and share such informal comments.

"I'll see what I can do back home for you," John replied with a knowing grin.

"In truth, the mining operations _are_ interesting," Zabetha added quickly in defence of her other family, "and it should present Atlantis will good trading opportunities."

"Of course," John nodded, but grinned again with understanding. "I'll make sure we all wear something green," he said recalling the conversation of the colour from earlier.

"That will definitely impress them," she replied. She did enjoy John's company, and hoped he truly would be spending more time here, and hopefully Teyla with him.

They had descended the second flight of stairs now and were arriving down into the main lobby of the Family area of the complex. Zabetha glanced down and through into the dining area to see Rhakshar step into view.

As always, her heart jumped in delight to see her beloved. He smiled widely at her, though, as always when with others, his spine was straight and his manner polite and contained. He was especially that way with Teyla, but from respect and no longer from heavy caution.

"Major Sheppard, Honoured Elite," Rhakshar greeted them as he moved into the lobby.

"Hi, Rhakshar," John smiled back at him.

"Do you like your new quarters?" Rhakshar asked him. Zabetha could see Rhakshar's eagerness to connect with John, perhaps since they were both now Sons of Athos through marriage to daughters of the family of Emmagan.

"They're great," John smiled as they all formed a circle in the lobby.

"The vista down upon the Orchard Courtyard is particularly lovely when the sun is bright," Rhakshar smiled, since his quarters looked down on the same view as John's, not that it was his room alone.

She and Rhakshar had turned their adjoining quarters into one large home, using the furthest room as their work areas with desks and nice sitting areas, leaving the first lounger, formally just hers, as their official lounge where they sat with guests. The second bedroom was storage and clothing, and they shared one bedroom together. It might be some time until Teyla and John might do the same, but Zabetha was hopeful.

"I hadn't expected the apartment to be so big," John said conversationally to Rhakshar. He appeared to like Rhakshar's company in turn, which pleased Zabetha.

"John," Teyla drew her Husband's attention, using his name but she also touched his arm, and he looked round instantly. "I shall send a Link to the Training Facility."

"I can contact Atlantis from the same place?" He asked.

"Yes, through this way," Teyla replied as she headed towards the archway.

"Gotta go call home," John smiled at Rhakshar and then at Zabetha.

"We shall see you before you depart," Zabetha smiled as John bobbed his head with a nod and followed Teyla.

Zabetha watched them head through the archway and out of view. "Come on," she whispered to Rhakshar and hurried to the archway and peered around it to watch the new couple heading away through the dining area towards the small communications room beyond it.

Rhakshar, having followed her as requested, pressed against part of her back, one hand on her arm as he peered around the archway with her. "What are we looking at?" He whispered.

"Did you see how they were smiling at each other?" She asked in a whisper.

"If it is smiles we are looking for," Rhakshar replied, "the backs of their heads will not provide much."

She glanced at her clearly amused Husband, but they were stood too closely pressed for him to see her amused glare. She retuned her attention to Teyla and John, but they turned out of the dining area and were now out of sight.

Zabetha drew back into the lobby, Rhakshar moving with her, but not pulling very far away.

She smiled up at her beloved. "When I arrived in Teyla's quarters they were sat very close on the sofa and I think she was holding his hand, or at least touching his arm."

Rhakshar nodded. "It does appear that their disagreement has passed."

"It appears that they might be in love still," Zabetha corrected him happily.

Rhakshar smiled in that way he had of tolerating her hope on this subject. "That is up to them," he noted, but his hands had slid around her waist. Alone in the lobby, she was more than happy to be held by him, and without anyone else around she could be relaxed and her full emotional self.

"You think I am being foolish," she commented as she leant against his warm body, his arms encircling her back in a full embrace.

"You are _never_ foolish," he told her.

She smiled up at him. "I am just pleased to see that my hopes are founded in reality."

He pulled a face down at her. "Touching hands and sharing smiles does not mean they are in love, My Love," he leant down and pressed his lips to her nose. They had time alone this evening once John and Lieutenant Ford departed and it was clear to her that he wished to spend those hours alone in their quarters. She was more than happy to do so.

"Does that mean that you do not love me when you smile at me?" She asked him her teasing question.

He kissed her right cheek and then again by her right ear. "I love you always, smiling or not." He pulled back to look down at her. "I just do not want you to be disappointed. Your Honoured Sister has her own life to live."

"I know," Zabetha replied; with her arms leant against his chest, she was idly playing with the golden family medallion he was wearing today. "But I have never seen Teyla this way before. She would not go throwing things over anything but that which is most important to her."

Rhakshar nodded, though his attention was back on her ear as he nuzzled and then kissed her cheek again.

"I just want to see her happy," Zabetha whispered. "Even if it is for only the short time she may have with us."

The sad sensation slid through her, as it always did when she found herself fearing for Teyla's life. She lived such a dangerous life.

Rhakshar's embrace tightened, turning instantly from seduction to comfort.

She surrendered to his support, sliding her arms around him, pressing her chest to his and laying her cheek against his inner shoulder.

"I just wish her to be as fortunate as I have been in finding you," she whispered against his shirt, drinking in the feel and warmth of him.

Rhakshar's cheek pressed against her forehead and his hands slid comfortingly across her back.

"Your Sister is a powerful warrior," he whispered into the silence, "all you can do is hope that the Ancestors watch over her with great care."

Zabetha nodded against him and they stood in silence for awhile, arms around each other.

"But," she considered into the quiet and she heard him chuckle against her even before she said anything more, "we could invite them to attend the flower gardens with us the next time John visits Athos."

"That is a good idea," Rhakshar agreed.

Zabetha pulled back and looked up at him. "If the Atlantis representatives will be visiting here more often, perhaps we could go soon. It would give John time away from the talks and it would be an official visit to the gardens."

Rhakshar nodded. "We could start with a meal overlooking the golden flower fields."

"Yes," Zabetha grinned. "Just us and them, and then we could take the long route through the flower beds and gardens. Perhaps we could wander off, give them a little time alone amongst the beautiful flowers."

Rhakshar chuckled before leaning in and kissing her cheek again. "Alright, but if we are caught out in this ploy by your Honoured Sister, it was all your idea."

Now she was the one to chuckle at his ongoing nervousness of Teyla. "Do not worry, I shall protect you," she smiled at up at him before reaching up to cup his jaw and she drew his lips down to her own.

00000

 _Tjaru, Athos_

"A party?" General O'Neill asked from the wall screen in front of John, Colonel Carter at the General's side. "Sounds _real_ tough, Major."

John glanced aside to check that Teyla wasn't within earshot, but she'd left him alone in the small communications room.

"It's a big military celebration for everyone who was part of the Nest battle victory," John repeated. "It's a real compliment for Ford and me to be invited."

"But you don't know what planet you'll be on?" Colonel Carter asked with a faint frown.

"It's kept top secret," John winced, hoping that wasn't going to be reason to stop him and Ford going. "I think it'll look good for Atlantis to be represented, and there'll be Elite there. We should be fine, Colonel."

He could tell that Colonel Carter wasn't all that happy not knowing the Gate address where he and Ford were going, but she would see it as good press for the city with the Alliance's Military.

"I'd be happier if you had a team with you," she pondered.

"I really don't think that'll happen," John considered. "They might see an armed escort as a threat, but I could ask Emmagan."

"We could take it as an insult that we're not allowed to look after our people in Alliance space," O'Neill put in, but John got the impression that the General wasn't going to make a big deal about it. The opportunity to look good to the Alliance Military could be priceless.

John still had the occasional nightmare of watching that planet's atmosphere burning after the Alliance Military Fleet had gotten done with it.

"I honestly think we'll be fine, General," John insisted, trying not to sell it too hard. "We can limit it to, say, three hours and come back home then."

O'Neill glanced at Carter as she considered that. "Two hours," she decided. "That should be plenty of time."

"Yes, Colonel," John smiled, pleased, but he couldn't lie that he had some worries about going to a planet he didn't know with only Ford as backup. But then it was hardly the first time he'd headed out with only Ford and a handful of Elite as those he trusted to watch his back.

"I expect to hear from you in two hours, Major," Carter reiterated.

John checked his watch. "It'll take us another 30 minutes to the Gate here, so I will call in again at 22:00."

"Alright," Carter agreed. "And we'll keep an eye out for a possible visitor from the Training Facility this evening."

"Thank you, Colonel," John smiled back. He hadn't missed the clear hope in Colonel Carter's face when he'd told her that the Elite might be able to send someone to help Carson. John had phased it as a specialist in "post-injury trauma".

"Keep your eyes open, Major," O'Neill put in.

"Yes, Sir," John agreed.

"And your drink non-alcoholic," O'Neill added.

"Yes, Sir," John nodded.

"Last thing we need is you two getting half cocked and-"

"I'm sure you'll both be fine," Carter interrupted the rest of the General's warning. O'Neill gave her a look that was almost playful. John made sure not to smile at the moment.

"We'll be in touch at 22:00," John promised again.

"You had better," O'Neill instructed. "Or Sumner will be storming onto Athos with all guns blazing, and no one wants to see that."

John wasn't sure if he should smile at the joking comment and the General's clear opinion of Sumner.

"We'll be fine," He decided to repeat.

"Take care, Major," Carter smiled and John reached out and touched the disconnect button Teyla had pointed out to him.

That had gone well enough, but he could only hope that he was right that this wasn't going to be a mistake. No, it would be fine. John trusted Teyla without question, and the other Elite he knew were going to be there. He'd been in enough scrapes with the Elite to trust them, and this was hardly the first time he and Ford had gone in blind with the Elite.

Besides, it really would be good to get some experience of the Alliance Military. Atlantis had enough experience now working with the Elite and trading with Athos and meeting some other planet reps, but they hadn't had much to do with the actual Alliance Military. Considering they had the serious firepower of the Military Fleet, it was about time that John got a look at what the Alliance Military looked like.

As much as he was loathed to be the 'face of Atlantis', today it might be useful. Turning up not only as an Elite warrior's husband, but having been a part of the victory at the Nest battle had to be good. Atlantis needed that good press.

He just had to hope that Teyla's idea of 'informal' was similar to his own.

God, he hoped he wasn't going to have to give an impromptu speech or anything!

Was it too late to persuade Teyla to let Woolsey come along?

"Did it go well?" Teyla asked as he stepped out of the little communications room behind the family's dining room.

"Yeah," John smiled at her, but the nerves were kicking in again. How had he gone from a disgraced pilot in Antarctica to an ambassador in another galaxy again?

"Though we've only got a two hour window there before we have to be back," he added.

Teyla smiled. "That should be plenty of time."

That lifted his mood a bit. "Plenty of time for what exactly?" He asked as he joined her heading back through the dining room.

"To start our implementation of 'Operation Cunning Plan'," she replied.

"Which will involve...?" He pressed.

"You shall see," she lifted her chin, clearly enjoying the little power play as they passed by the large dining table.

"Am I gonna need to use my masculine wiles to find out?" He asked quietly, leaning a little closer as they walked side by side towards the archway.

Whatever answer she might have given was too late though, because through the archway, Zabetha and Rhakshar were waiting for them, and Elkaska had joined them.

"John," Elkaska grinned. "I am glad I have a chance to see you before you leave."

"We shall see you through to the main lobby," Zabetha put in more formally, smiling though. John had seen a new side of the woman today. Zabetha had always been welcoming and always polite and composed, but today she had seemed more...approachable. She and Rhakshar had made the family meal that bit easier and John felt really grateful.

"Thanks so much for today," John told them as they all headed towards the door out of the family part of the Governing Complex.

"We have been delighted to share this day with you. Our Father is sorry that he cannot see you leave today," Zabetha said softly, "he is held up in an important meeting, but he will see you tomorrow."

Yes, the big official visit tomorrow of the IOA to Athos. It wasn't so much on John's shoulders tomorrow, but he was a bit nervous that it would go well. He might have been responsible for the new contract with Athos, the Alliance and the Elite, but he wasn't going to be in control of how that unfolded now. He just had to hope that he and Teyla could keep up a good influence through 'Operation Cunning Plan'.

"I'll see him tomorrow," John agreed as Zabetha triggered open the door and they stepped out of the lobby and into the corridor of the complex where he'd left Ford. He'd checked in periodically with Ford over the radio and the kid said he wasn't bored hanging out with part of the Honour Guard, but John had left him here for hours.

However, it was immediately clear that it hadn't been a problem.

Ford was sat at a small table with two of John's Honour Guard and one of the Complex's guards who was supposed to be stationed at the end of the corridor.

They were all holding playing cards – Earth playing cards that Ford usually kept in one of his tac vest pockets.

"No, no, that's a _full_ house," Ford was laughing.

"I do not care if the house is _full_ , they are not all the same _colour_ ," the Complex's Guard argued back at Ford.

"It doesn't matter with a full house," Ford started to explain but suddenly realised he had company. He and the three guards all snapped to attention, all standing up in a rush, cards dropping to the table top.

"I am glad all is well out here," Zabetha said as she led the way to the embarrassed group. The Complex Guard stepped aside and quickly took up position against the wall.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Ford returned, snapping Zabetha a salute that really wasn't necessary.

"It is fine, Lieutenant Ford," Zabetha replied as they reached the table. "We are sorry to have left you waiting so long."

Ford saluted Teyla as she passed by next and Teyla nodded back, but John could see that she was pleased that Ford had been playing nice with two of the Honour Guard. The two Honour Guards bowed respectfully to Teyla.

John reached Ford next, who was quickly gathering up the fallen cards. "I can't take you anywhere," John grinned at him, picking up a pair of eights from the floor.

Elkaska joined them at the table, looking at the cards with interest. "These are game cards?" Elkaska asked as he picked up the Ace of Hearts. "Do you trade them? Are they popular?"

John gave Elkaska a look. "Always looking for the trading opportunities," John smiled at him, pushing a little to see how far he could tease his new uncle.

"Of course," Elkaska grinned back.

John mentally added 'games' to the list he and Teyla had drawn up.

"Come on, Lieutenant," John passed the last cards to Ford.

Ford shoved the deck back into its box as they followed Rhakshar and Elkaska to where Zabetha and Teyla were waiting at the next intersection of hallways. Behind John and Ford, the two card playing members of the Honour Guard took up the rear. John glanced back at them - Meroe and Shemu, if he remembered correctly.

He was feeling better about his Honour Guard if they were the types to sit and play card games.

At the corridor intersection, Ford's cards back in his pocket and all presentable, they joined Teyla and Zabetha.

Only, Valkalis, the lead of John's Honour Guard, appeared from the left, giving Meroe and Shemu a quick pointed look.

"Major Sheppard," Valkalis smiled.

"Valkalis," John returned, meeting the guy's gaze directly. "Not too bored, I hope."

"Not at all," Valkalis replied as the remaining two members of the Honour Guard materialised from the right hand corridor.

"Good," John smiled. "Thanks for your, support," he struggled with a decent compliment, after all his Honour Guard had been on duty all this time.

Valkalis bowed his head, as did the other two Honour Guard in view.

Feeling a bit awkward, John bowed his head to them too.

Valkalis bowed his head again, and John got the feeling the guy might have wanted to smile again.

John didn't bow his head this time or it could go on all night.

Zabetha and Teyla led the way onwards, Valkalis and Meroe walking just in front of John and Ford, Rhakshar and Elkaska chatting behind them.

"We're off to a party, Lieutenant," John informed Ford.

"Really?" Ford asked eagerly.

"Big Military shindig and we're invited because we were part of the big victory against the Wraith Nest System."

"Cool," Ford offered in a low voice.

"Not sure what the Alliance Military consider 'a party'," John considered, "But we're about to find out."

"Are there going to be people from the Sythus there?" Ford asked.

John gave the kid a knowing look. There had been a particular female crew member Ford had had the hots for. "Believe so," John confirmed.

Ford pretended not to be excited about that. "Sure," he nodded as if it didn't matter. "It's nice to be invited."

John shook his head at the kid, but ahead Teyla had slowed her pace so that he and Ford were catching up with her. She smiled prettily at Ford as she kept pace with them.

"Did you have a pleasant meal, Lieutenant?" She asked.

"Yes, thank you, Ma'am," Ford replied. "I liked the mashed blue vegetable."

Polite discussion about Athosian foods lasted all the way down the long central corridor of the Governing Complex and in no time the double doors out to the main lobby came into view.

The Complex Guards on either side swept open the doors for Zabetha and Valkalis at the lead, the rest of them following out into the lobby. The Athosian daylight was fast going, the lobby lit with candles and subtle electric lights.

There was a party waiting for them though, dressed in varying uniforms of people who worked in the Governing Complex, and at the front John spied someone he knew - Mino, the Complex's scary gardening matriarch.

She was holding a moderately sized potted plant which had big green leaves and several bright yellow flowers sprouted out the top. John had a worried feeling that the flowering plant was for him.

"Major Sheppard," Zabetha said from his left and he turned to face her. Rhakshar and Elkaska had slid in behind her shoulders, presenting the more usual arrangement when they said an official hello or goodbye in this lobby.

"It has been an honour to have you visit our home," Zabetha said louder than usual, presumably for everyone listening, "which is now your home as well. Traditionally we present new family members with a gift, and following your own kind gift to this world of a plant from Earth, we wished to return the favour in kind."

Mino moved forward and held out the flowering plant. It was in a green ceramic pot that looked handmade and hand-painted with pretty little flowers and Athosian writing.

"May we present you with a Helianthus plant," Zabetha indicated the plant and its happy large flowers. "The Helianthus is the most treasured flower to our people. We use it in many ointments, perfumes and soaps, and its roots have excellent healing properties."

Mino held the pot further forward. John took his cue and reached out for the plant.

The bright yellow flowers danced as he took the plant. It was heavier than he'd expected and the scent that wafted up to him was familiar. Teyla smelt like these flowers a lot of the time.

"Thank you," John told Zabetha and then Mino. "We're really grateful," he added.

"The blossoming plant you gave to us is flourishing healthily and is well tended," Mino informed him. "I prepared these instructions on the best care of the Helianthus," she reached out and one of her people placed a small electronic pad in her hand, which Mino then held out towards him.

Both of John's hands were full with the heavy plant, but fortunately Ford was forward thinking and took the new pad for him.

"Thank you," John repeated to Mino.

"If your gardeners have any questions on its care, I would welcome the opportunity to answer them," Mino stated with a sternness that made John remember his old high school maths teacher.

"Great, I'll pass it on," John smiled tightly at the somewhat forbidding gardener as she stepped back.

Zabetha moved forward again. "We look forward to seeing you again tomorrow with your peoples' representatives," she smiled and held up her hands to initiate the Athosian forehead touch again. John didn't have a hand free, so he just leant forward and touched his forehead to hers, the plant caught between them.

The forehead touch over, John straightened, but it looked like Rhakshar and Elkaska weren't going to want to do the forehead thing, so John gratefully stepped back. "Thank you for today, we'll be back tomorrow."

Teyla's family smiled as he turned away. Half of his Honour Guard were already leading the way, Teyla a few steps ahead of him, as they all headed through the lobby.

Ford fell into step with John. "Aw, they gave you flowers," the kid whispered.

"Shut up," John whispered back.

"They're really pretty," Ford added.

John ignored that as he nodded to those he passed by and, fortunately, in no time they were outside the lobby and heading away from all the attention. He felt his shoulders relax, well, not as much as they would if he wasn't holding the flowering plant. The flowers bounced as he walked like they were dancing happily in time with his steps.

It was a nice gift, and he was certain the botanists back in Atlantis would be ecstatic about receiving it; they'd gotten all serious about choosing the plants John had given to Ketra and Mino. Now they would be getting an alien flowering plant as a gift back.

Still, he wasn't used to being given flowers. Now that he thought about it, turning up in the Gate Room later with flowers was going to end up with no small amount of teasing. He'd get Ford to carry the plant on the way home. After John was going to have to hold the damn thing through the party. Maybe he could leave it somewhere safe.

Teyla had fallen back into step with him, Ford having less than subtly pulled back. John smiled at her beside him as they headed down the familiar streets of Tjaru.

"Nice plant, thanks," John told her honestly, shifting the weight of the plant into his right arm, one of the flowers brushing against his chin.

Teyla looked round in the fast disappearing sunlight and smiled at him. It was a nice smile, one that made him forget about carrying a surprisingly heavy plant pot.

"Mino took two days to select the best plant apparently," Teyla informed him.

"Bet Ketra wasn't allowed anywhere near," John smiled back.

"She still keeps far away from Mino."

"Yeah, she really is scary," John agreed. "Mino, not Ketra."

"Most would see it the other way around," Teyla commented, her smile continuing.

Today really had gone well with her. He held her eyes, though their dark depths were lit only with the passing lamps of Tjaru, the sun having almost disappeared behind the horizon.

"Hopefully tomorrow will go well," John considered as they approached the towering Gateway.

"Everyone is looking forward to it," Teyla replied. "There will be quite a number of visiting world Leaders and Councillors in the following days, plenty of opportunity for your people to meet new Representatives of worlds you have not heard of as yet."

"Great," John nodded. "Thanks for all your help with coming up with the lists of trade ideas. It'll all really help."

"I shall be here on Athos for the next week at least," she replied as they passed through the Gateway, waved through by the Guards. "I will not abandon you to face all the new Representatives and such alone," she added.

"Nerves showing, huh?" He asked.

They carried on a few steps more before she answered, the air outside the city cool against his face. "Only by those of us privileged to know you well."

He held her gaze in the now near darkness, the alien lights of the Gateway behind them. She glanced away to watch her footing on the slightly uneven ground along the edge of the roadway, but she looked up at him again.

"Thanks for today," he told her. "For everything, and for...our talk," he added, his voice lower.

"The evening is not over yet," she replied as the road took its left turn to join the main road down to the Gate. "We have our 'Operation Cunning Plan' to implement."

John shifted the plant from his aching right arm into his left arm. "Still no hints on how we're doing that tonight?"

She looked forward, her chin lifting again and a smile just visible on her beautiful face. "Trust me, John."

He glanced ahead to the flickering flames lining the road and around the Gate, and then back to his new wife.

"Always," he promised.

Despite everything that had happened between them, he knew that he would always trust this woman when it came to safety, missions, even with his life and those he cared for.

Whether he trusted her with his heart, well, there wasn't much choice now. He loved her, and she said she loved him. He could only trust that she wasn't going to break his heart again, or that he might do the same to her.

"I promise the same," she uttered back softly, surprising him a little. "We move forward together."

He nodded, feeling strangely emotional, despite walking down a somewhat muddy road, a heavy plant in his arms and plenty of people around them.

"Would you like me to carry the plant for awhile?" She asked, surprising him again.

"It's okay," he looked down at her again, "I like the smell."

She smiled softly up at him.

They walked the last part in silence, though Ford was chattering away with one of the Honour Guard, something about Portal Defence, so it sounded useful not distracted talk. Yeah, like John could talk about getting distracted.

As they turned off the road and into the open space around the Gate, John could see that there were still more Guards than usual stationed there, but, fortunately, not as many as when he and Ford had first arrived today. The remaining guards formed two lines, one either side of the path up to the Gate. Abas was stood at the closest end of one line and he moved forward to meet them.

"Good eve, Major Sheppard. Lieutenant Ford," he smiled, always cheerful.

"Hi, Abas," John smiled back. "I'd shake your hand, but my arms are a bit tied up," he joked, aware that his Honour Guard had lined up behind him.

"I shall be here tomorrow to greet you and your Representatives," Abas promised.

"Looking forward to it," John lied.

Abas shook Ford's hand and then moved aside. John noticed that Teyla had headed off towards the Athosian DHD. She was probably the only one here who knew what planet they were heading to after all.

The Gate began to light up, so John turned back round towards his Honour Guard.

They all stood in a line facing him, stood at sharp attention, all eyes forward.

John settled the plant securely into his left arm and quickly saluted the guard, feeling it was probably the best way to show his respect.

All of them did the polite Athosian head nod in return.

"We will be here for you tomorrow, Major Sheppard," Valkalis replied.

"I'll see you all then," John nodded, wondering what the IOA lot would think about him having his own personal guard. He was going to have to remember to tell Carter and O'Neill about the Honour Guard later.

The wormhole exploded out sharply behind him, so John turned back towards its twisting and turning watery rush. Teyla stepped into view close to the event horizon.

"Let's do this," John said to Ford as they headed towards her, walking between the two lines of Athosian Guards.

"Any idea what this party is going to be like?" Ford asked, a little nervous now to John's ear. He was probably wishing he was armed too.

"Not a clue, Lieutenant," John whispered back. "I'm imagining lots of military colours, loads of uniforms around tables; maybe speeches," he rambled as they reached Teyla.

She glanced up from a pad she was slipping back into her pocket. "We should be timing it perfectly to meet the others," she smiled, seeming pretty relaxed about where they were headed.

She turned and strode towards the Gate.

"Considering that most of the Military Fleet was involved in the fight against the Wraith Nest," John said to Ford as they followed her. "There's going to be _a lot_ of eyes and ears on us."

Teyla disappeared into the Gate ahead of them, the shape of her echoing out across the wormhole's surface.

"So," John took a breath as he and Ford arrived at the Gate. "Best behaviour."

"Yes, Sir," Ford managed to get in a split second before stepped into the wormhole.

00000  
TBC


	20. Walking into The Lion's Den

**Part** : 20/22

 **Note:** Wow, it's amazing what you can achieve with a free Sunday! All three final chapters are complete and I'm posting them all together now. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, messaged, or emailed – I appreciate every word and nudge.

00000

 **Chapter 20 –** **Walking Into The Lion's Den**

 _Just Outside Alliance Territory_

It had struck Long Sleep very quickly, as he had accompanied the Hive Primary in the transport visiting each of the new Hive's Cruisers, just how wide a variety of lineages and experience had responded to The Signal. It was not unusual for cruisers of lost Hives to be absorbed into another Hive's gathering, but this was truly a wide collection of their kind. Yet, all had the exact same focus as his own gathering – they wanted revenge on the Armoured Herd like never before, and they were desperately grateful to follow their new Great Queen.

The Leaders of each Cruiser collected up, the transport had finally slid into the largest bay of the Hive, and the Hive Primary had led them out onto the deck of their new Hive.

It had been immediately clear to Long Sleep that this Hive was packed full of warriors, and that all of their minds were focused intently on the same mission. The hallways, power veins, and the very deck of the ship was full of purpose, the entire Hive all focused on preparing for a great mission ahead of them. He saw that same awareness settle on the other Leaders around him and he felt their minds absorb that same purpose into their beings willingly. Like a fever coursing through a body, their eagerness for their newly adopted mission pulsed through them in time with the Hive's warriors around them.

The exact details of how the Hive would strike back at the Armoured Herd had not yet been defined by the Hive Primary, but that there was a determined plan was enough to galvanise the group around Long Sleep. Long Sleep could feel his own heart pump in response to the same excitement, at the promise of a great culling ahead of them in which he would be able to avenge the loss of his former Queen.

And as the Hive Primary led the Leaders on a tour of the new adaptations of the Hive, around them all there was the ever present sense of their new Great Queen.

Her mind was extraordinary, and it was not even directly open and focused upon them yet. The presence of her mind was enough, always there in the background, exuding her power like a great protective cloud. Long Sleep had never felt a mind like hers before.

The Hive Primary had said she had been uniquely bred by other Queens to merge their lineages. The idea still niggled at Long Sleep though as he walked with the other Leaders. As he inspected each section, observed the alterations to increase power for the Hive, he listened and learned, but a part of his mind still tried to comprehend what he had been told about his new Queen.

Everything he knew about his species' genetics said such a combination was not possible – yet, he could feel her mind, so powerful and yet different enough that he could accept the concept of the combination of lineages.

Somewhat.

His traitorously fast mind would not let go of the questions though. He thought through all the information he knew, the research he knew had been done in the past, including pieces of rumours he had heard of previous Queens having tried such combinations of lineages. Every piece of information said it was not possible, or, if it were, that the outcome would not be pleasant, that an unviable mutation would be the only result. One research account he recalled from many generations ago spoke of such an attempt having created a return to a more insectoid and non-Wraith worthy result. Any warriors who took an interest in the science of their species genetics had heard such stories, and they were a warning not to weaken their species and cause destructive mutations. Experimenting with genetics was frowned upon, especially in the last generations where one such foolish experiment had resulted in some human cattle having been given the ability to tap into the mental network. Such cattle were particularly dangerous.

But somehow, despite that past experience and the many warnings, a new Queen had been created.

How had it been done? Why had it been done?

He knew that one lineage, those of the most powerful minds, had been almost entirely wiped from the stars by the Armoured Herd's specialist hunters. Perhaps there had been an attempt to preserve the lineages, combining all the genetic variations together to preserve and enhance their individual skills.

Still, it still seemed unlikely to Long Sleep, but he only had to reach out to feel his new Great Queen's mind to feel secure in her power. Clearly whatever had been done had been successful, for here she was, ready to lead them all to revengeful victory.

It was a mission that the Hive Primary referenced constantly has he showed them the Hive with more pride than any warrior should display. Perhaps the new Queen valued such extreme arrogance.

"...we will be the greatest gathering of our kind ever known in the stars," the Hive Primary continued as he led them finally through parting webbing into the area most interesting to Long Sleep – the drive pods which had clearly been augmented outside. His Cruiser had detected the new growths from the Hive's drive pods, but had been unable to explain what they were. Now he was going to see what they were.

"For this, our new drive will bring that victory even sooner," the Hive Primary announced, his arms wide as he stopped in front of the engine manifold. There was nothing different to the manifold itself, but there were a series of new veins running off it.

Long Sleep moved forward with the other Leaders to inspect the new adaptation to the drive.

"By increasing the power output?" One Leader asked while Long Sleep focused on following one of the veins out from behind the manifold, which presumably ran through to one of the new growth pods on the outside. The "new drive" the Hive Primary spoke of so proudly.

"It does far more," the Hive Primary replied. "It brings an entirely new way to travel, one that we will use to destroy the Armoured Herd," the Hive Primary announced.

"A new way to travel?" one other Leader asked. "How?"

"You will see," the Hive Primary dismissed the question, and Long Sleep wondered if the Primary actually knew the answer. For Long Sleep did not understand what he was seeing. As much as he tried to inspect the veins and how they connected into the systems he knew so well; all he could see was power output running from the manifold to the far wall, beyond which would be the new drive pod growths.

"Can we see the new drive?" Long Sleep asked, the first direct question he had asked during the tour, having preferred to remain quiet among the other Leaders.

"It would be too dangerous," the Hive Primary replied. "The new drives emit a dangerous radiation. We have ensured the drives and the hull are sufficiently strengthened and shielded, all are safe from harm, but this is as close as you can get."

Long Sleep frowned at that answer. He had noted the strengthened hull, but had assumed that had been to protect the ship from the forces of increased drive strength. Damaging radiation would explain why the new pods had been grown externally.

"How have you adapted the ship's growth patterns to contain the radiation?" He asked.

"Such details will be answered later," the Hive Primary responded. "It is time to move to the main chambers and for you to await an audience with your new Great Queen."

That announcement distracted all the other minds from further questions, all of them eager to meet the new Queen. They would all pledge their loyalty and the Queen would focus her mind upon each of them, accepting their life promise and officially making them a part of her Hive gathering.

Long Sleep felt the same excitement at the prospect, but there were still many important questions left unanswered. Long Sleep had a vast knowledge of propulsion systems and he frowned at the power veins. What type of radiation would the new drive be producing that was so harmful? His species were resilient to most forms of radiation. What was this new radiation and why was it being created by a drive pod?

As the Hive Primary turned and led the way back into the corridor outside, Long Sleep held back and crouched down by one of the new thick veins that ran off the manifold. He set his hand against its warm life and searched for the living essence in it, seeking to find if the ship was being harmed by this new radiation. Maybe he could develop some new ideas from it to adapt his own ship...

A strange sense of dissatisfaction flowed up his hand, as if the ship was disturbed slightly. He focused his mind a little more, knowing the ship could not communicate directly, but its feelings and sense of being could be detected and shared.

He could feel the power flowing within the fibres of the vein, feel the ship alive with it, but where it was flowing, to the new drive, there was a sense of caution from the living essence of the ship. Long Sleep sent a wave to reassurance to the living being around him, hoping that he might assist in some way. He would need to learn about this new drive and see what he could do for his new Hive...

Except, something shifted in his feeling with the ship, its presence communicating a sense of...

Something alien.

Long Sleep frowned at his hand against the vein. The ship did not like the new drive.

Perhaps it was this new radiation. Was the ship being damaged by the radiation despite the adaptations?

Except, the Hive felt healthy to Long Sleep, but also...worried.

Long Sleep had not felt such a response before.

"What are you doing?" The Hive Primary growled from across the room, the other Leaders already out of the chamber.

Long Sleep took a moment to send some more reassurance to the Hive and then lifted his hand. "I was considering how we might better shield the Hive from this new radiation," he replied carefully, aware that he was already lying to his new Hive Primary. He knew his deception would be lost on the Hive Primary amongst the 'noise' of his fast mind. Most other warriors struggled to read his mind clearly, for it held too much. His mutation providing him another gift.

"The Queen is satisfied with the Hive's strength," the Primary replied.

Long Sleep inclined his head as he stood up and approached his new Hive Primary. "I have a great deal of experience with engineering systems and would welcome the chance to assist in any way that I can."

The Primary hissed slightly. "I am sure you have great deal of _ideas_ ," he sneered. It was meant as an insult, hardly a new one for Long Sleep, but it was also a dressing down.

"I am here to serve," Long Sleep inclined his head low, showing deference to his dominant Primary.

"Remember that," the Hive Primary hissed and turned away, leading the way back out of the chamber.

Long Sleep followed, and made sure not to glance back at the manifold and its new worrying adaptations. Perhaps once he was privy to more details of the new system he could help the Hive ship. He was almost certain that his new Queen would welcome anything that could help the Hive.

There was certainly no concern in the presence of her mind, flowing distant yet always within reach.

Except, if the Hive ship were concerned, should not also the Queen? The Queens were intimately connected with their Hives on a deep psychic and even biological level. Why would the Queen be so relaxed when her ship felt such concern?

00000

 _Military Base 1570, Alliance Space_

The usual sensations of Gate travel passed through John's body as he stepped out of the wormhole and onto the new alien planet.

He and Ford had arrived at the Military party.

The Gate stood on a massive old floodplain, the flat dark brown ground stretching out in all directions around them. Towering over this plain were two massive hangars, one a short walk directly in front of the Gate, and the other off to the left.

John tilted his head back to look up at the hangar immediately ahead as he moved forward, vaguely following Teyla whilst taking in as much of the massive building as he could.

"Whoa!" Ford uttered from John's elbow. "You could fit a dozen aircraft in there!"

"Easy," John agreed. "Kind of reminds me of the Boeing Factory in Washington. Maybe they build starships in there," he wondered. "But, I guess today it's where the party is," he added.

The drumming echoing out from the building was unmistakable, as was another sound that could possibly be voices, except there had to be thousands all singing together to sound like that!

"This is going be amazing!" Ford announced excitedly and John had to nod in agreement – this sure didn't look like it was going to be some sedate seated speech-requiring kind of party after all.

"Sir," Ford nudged his arm.

John dragged his attention from the hangar and looked ahead of them to see that Teyla had reached the edge of a large group of people stood off to the left. John recognised faces immediately - they were all part of the Sythus crew.

At Teyla's side stood Si, Oneakka and Seifer, all talking and smiling. Everything looked relaxed, if anything there was an air of excitement across the large chatting crowd of crewmen.

As John and Ford approached, two particularly familiar faces appeared out of the group, the two men heading forward to meet them.

"Lieutenant Ford, Major Sheppard," Madesh grinned, extending his hand.

John shifted the flowering plant into his left arm, so he had his right hand free. He shook Madesh's hand with a smile, desperately grateful to see a friendly face. With him, Ru, the Sythus' head Engineer, extended his hand as well.

"It's good to see familiar faces," John told them as he shook Ru's offered hand.

"It is good to see you both as well," Madesh replied as he shook Ford's hand. "Are you both well?" He asked, but John spied another familiar face step out of the crowd.

"Seeal," He smiled as the woman joined their little huddle.

"Major Sheppard," She smiled, only to then frown down at the plant in his arms. "Were we all supposed to bring flowers?" She teased.

"It's a gift from the Athosians," John explained. "It's the official plant of Athos," he added the fact quickly. "It has various cosmetic and medical uses."

Madesh and Ru nodded with interest while Seeal chuckled and glanced away. John followed her gaze to see that Teyla was still talking with the other Elite. It looked like the three Elite males were in a party mood since they weren't wearing any body armour and barely any weapons. Well, except Si, but John could see that he was only wearing about half his usual arsenal of weaponry. That was probably 'casual' for the big powerful warrior.

"So," John indicated the hangars, "a big party, huh?"

"You are going to really enjoy this celebration," Madesh promised, his cheeks looking slightly flushed already. "I was just explaining to Seeal that there are no rules here, except no fighting."

"Well..." one man interrupted doubtfully over Madesh's shoulder.

" _Try_ not to get into a fight," Madesh corrected.

"Yeah, no fighting doesn't sound all that likely with Oneakka here," John joked.

"Honoured Elite Oneakka," Madesh corrected.

"Aiden!" John heard a female voice call over the chattering of the group and Ford's crush appeared, her smile as bright as Ford's as he spotted her.

"Hi, Nevaeh," Ford grinned, reaching out and they clasped forearms, presumably her people's version of a handshake.

"It is good to see you both," Nevaeh slid into the circle, two more of the former Strays group at her shoulder. All said hi, and all of them looked at John's plant with a curious look – he explained it again.

"It's for his cosmetic use," Seeal put in unhelpfully. John gave her a glare, but she smiled back.

"New job going well?" John asked her as the rest of the impromptu huddle chatted away, catching up and clearly all excited to join the party.

"I'm working for the Elite at the Training Facility," Seeal replied.

"Oh," John nodded. "Cool. What's the Training Facility like? I've heard about it, but never been there."

Seeal shrugged. "Good facilities, loads of gyms and good computer access."

That was good to know if he ended up staying there with Teyla during one of their shared times in Alliance space.

John nodded as the music from the closer hangar shifted to a simple drumming rhythm, thousands of voices rising up to be heard between the beats. "You been to one of these before?" He asked Seeal.

"No," Seeal replied with a faint frown. "I'm not sure what to expect."

"Yeah, same here," John muttered as he shifted the plant to his right arm for a bit.

"Everyone," Si' deep loud voice called across the large group, and everyone fell silent as they all turned to face Si and the other Elite. "Enjoy your time," Si announced with a grin, which was apparently the cue for everyone to start heading for the closer hangar. There were some excited shouts and hollers as the group surged forward.

John held back though, looking in Teyla's direction to see what she was doing. She was heading towards him, the other Elite at her back.

Madesh and Seeal had stayed with him and Ford, though John saw that Ru, Nevaeh and a couple of The Strays were walking away slowly and looking back at them. Probably waiting for them to finish with the Elite.

John turned his full attention on said approaching big Elite warriors.

Si was the first to reach him and the man's eyes fell on the plant in John's arms with a smile. "A Helianthus plant," the Athosian Elite grinned.

"Honoured Elite," John smiled at Si, nodding his head, and again as Oneakka arrived at Si' side.

"Sheppard," Oneakka nodded. "Still alive?"

"Hope so," John smiled back. "Thanks for the invite," John added to them all.

The Elite Seifer was the last to join the small group, the usual blaze of blue through his hair today had a matching bright blue strip down through his black top. John hadn't bonded all that well with this particular Elite, but the guy nodded politely to him, so John nodded back.

Teyla circled to his side. "Madesh, Seeal," she smiled at the two on John's other side. "It is good to see you both here."

"Honoured Elite," Madesh practically bowed.

"Honoured Elite," Seeal nodded politely.

"Halling did not change his mind?" Teyla frowned up at Si.

"No," Si confirmed and John saw him frown as well. "Nalla said she may join us later."

"Then, as we're all here, I say we go in," Seifer stated, apparently more than ready to follow the rest of the Sythus crew to the party.

"Indeed," Si intoned with another grin as he turned and strode towards the hangar, Oneakka and Seifer at his side.

Teyla kept to John's side, Madesh sliding in on her other side and asking something in his polite friendly tone.

"This should be fun," Ford grinned as they followed, Nevaeh and her bunch joining them again as they all headed across the dry soil to the closest hangar.

"You planning on carrying that plant pot the whole evening?" Seeal asked from John's side.

"Hopefully not all night," he replied. "Don't suppose they have a cloakroom."

"Doubtful," she returned. "Plus, I wouldn't put it past someone to go through an interesting Earthman's things."

"You think?" John asked her, the music growing in volume with each step.

"I wouldn't leave anything alone," she replied. "But then I'm not a trusting Alliance sort."

"What sort are you?" John asked her out of interest to see what she would say.

"Not the sort who usually goes to these types of events," she replied, her voice raised to be heard over the rising music.

The Sythus group were being noticed as they passed through other groups stood around near the entrance to the hangar, but then John guessed turning up with four Elite warriors was a sure-fire way of getting noticed anywhere. Maybe hanging out with the Elite would distract attention away from him and Ford being "interesting Earthmen".

"No parties on Dreamstation then?" He asked Seeal loudly, having to almost shout to be heard now and they weren't even in the hangar yet.

"There were _a lot_ of parties on Dream," Seeal shouted back, "But I was the one making sure no one was going through the cloakroom or killing each other."

The entrance to the hangar was ahead, which turned out to be a surprisingly small open doorway, and inside the drumming stopped and a massive cheer went up. As they approached the doorway, a new piece of music kicked off, the rhythm catchy and something close to maybe electric guitars joining in. John could now pick out a female voice rising up over the beaty piece, the words barely audible over the pure volume of music. As he and Seeal stepped inside the hangar, the wave of vibration of sound hit his chest and John had to stop and stare at the sight inside.

The crowd was as massive as he had imagined, stretching far off to the left down the long length of the building. Lights of differing colours moved over the mass of humanity as they danced, sung, and cheered. Along the 'shorter' end of the building to the right of the entrance, there was a raised bar set a good seven foot above the dance floor, with only a couple of feet worth of standing space set in front of the bar. Every few yards or so there were metal ladders reaching up from the dance floor to the bar, dancers queuing patiently up the ladders to replenish their drinks.

Towers of speakers stood in the closest corner of the hangar to John's immediate right, which explained why the vibration of the music had felt so strong when he had first entered. The source of all the music turned out to be from a band set up on a large raised stage in the middle of the building. Like an island in the middle of the dancing mass, the raised stage was outlined with speakers. Along two sides of the stage there was a massive collection of drums, all the drummers dressed in bright body paint and dancing as much as they drummed. The other two sides of the stage held players holding instruments that could perhaps be electric guitars - alien guitars that looked more like squashed hula-hoops with strings. On a higher section in the middle of the stage, two singers – one man and one woman - were shouting into microphones. The guy had a tall bright purple Mohawk, and the woman had a long white plait that whipped dangerously around her as she danced and sang.

A nudge at John's back made him keep moving forward into the hangar. The three big Elite males had stopped ahead of John and Seeal, the three taking in the view as well. The rest of the Sythus crew appeared to rushing to join the edge of the dance floor a few metres ahead, everyone eager and excited.

As the female singer hit a sudden high note in the song, the entire crowd of thousands all raised their arms, all chanting one word that John couldn't make out. The massive wash of sound was stunning.

As the woman's crazy long note finally dropped away, the shouting of the audience became a roar of approval and stamping feet could be heard as the drums dropped away into silence.

Purple Mohawk Man then stepped forward, one arm pointed straight up to the high ceiling above them all. "Alliance Military..." he shouted and his voice echoed loudly out of all the speakers, and in response the crowd cheered back. "Please welcome...the Elite!" he shouted and swung round, his long arm now pointing towards where John's group had just entered.

The shouting cheering rose up to new deafening levels.

In response, Si, Oneakka and Seifer all raised their arms. The crowd roared again.

John realised Teyla had disappeared somewhere.

"The Elite honour your victory!" Purple Mohawk shouted to the crowd. "Together. In. Victory!" He shouted, or rather screamed, into his microphone and the place roared again.

Then the drums kicked back in, a rapid hitting rhythm that was quickly joined by the alien guitars to create a good funky kind of beat. John couldn't help himself but move a bit to the music, nodding his head to the rhythm as the entire hangar began dancing again.

Feet were stamping, hips were shaking and John could see people singing along with the blurred loud lyrics. Maybe it was a chart topper.

He pulled his eyes from the sea of dancing humanity and looked around the limited non-dancing space around the entrance to the hangar, trying to spot where Teyla had gone. Only, he found himself witnessing the bizarre sight of Seifer, Oneakka, and Si forming a line heading towards the edge of the dancing crowd. The three big warriors weren't just walking though, no, they were getting their groove on. John watched, his mouth dropping open, as all three Elite men began dancing their way forward. Seifer was doing something rather close to the running man dance move, Oneakka had his pale arms up pumping as he swung his shoulders in time with the drums, and Si, at the back of the line, was swinging his hips and clapping in time to the music.

John watched, stunned, as the three men bopped and shook their bad thang, as they disappeared into the sea of dancers.

"Did that just happen?" John looked round to anyone left with him.

Except, only Seeal appeared to have noticed, or perhaps was the only one to care. She looked back at John with her own shocked expression.

John looked back to the edge of the sea of dancing humanity, seeing Oneakka's pale arms moving above people's heads as he danced deeper into the swell of people.

"The Elite dance?" John shouted against the music, looking back at Seeal again.

He was pretty sure she couldn't hear him, but she clearly understood the question, because she shook her head in shock.

Madesh abruptly appeared at Seeal's other side, his own shoulders and hips swaying as he grinned and gestured towards the dancing.

John had been quite prepared to join in a polite party, to talk politics if he had to, but he had never expected to go dancing!

He shook his head quickly, indicating the flowerpot as an excuse and looked around quickly for Ford and Teyla again. Only Ford was already at the closest edge of the dancing, looking back at John with a hopeful question in his youthful face. Nevaeh and the others were already dancing. John gestured with his chin towards the crowd, giving Ford permission to enjoy himself.

Ford grinned and bounced off to show the Alliance how badly Earthmen could dance.

Beside John, Madesh was still trying to convince Seeal to join in the dancing. She was waving her hands and shaking her head, though John got the impression that she did kind of want to have a go. So, he nudged her forward with his closest elbow and got a good glare for it.

Madesh moved closer and shouted something to her, which John doubted she could hear over the noise, but she looked at the dancing with more interest. She glanced around, back towards the exit behind them, but she was thinking about it. Madesh reached out and caught one of her hands and tugged her towards the edge of the crowd where Ru and the other Sythus lot were getting their groove on.

John looked out across the sea of bobbing heads and swore that he could still see Elite arms dancing deeper into the dancing mass.

John had wanted to see what the military were like when they let their hair down, but this wasn't what he'd expected.

Someone touched his shoulder and he looked round, relieved to see that Teyla had reappeared. She smiled and tilted her head back away towards a man stood clearly waiting for her; he was one of the only ones here actually in uniform. He looked mature and sharp-eyed, and he inclined his head vaguely as John looked at him.

Teyla leant in closer, her breath hot as she stood up on her toes and shouted in John's ear. "John," her voice arrived, just audible over the electronic music that had kicked up a notch, "...is Military Councillor...Wentai." She indicated the uniformed man. He was a member of the actual Military Council? Crap!

John straightened his back and nodded professionally to the man, who nodded back and then smiled, suddenly appearing friendly. John had the feeling that he'd seen him before – maybe at the Wedding? John had been introduced to a crazy number of people that day, but he hadn't really paid much attention to anyone, since he'd been too cross at Teyla and still in shock at his snap decision to get married.

Teyla pulled on John's arm slightly, and he moved with her towards the waiting Councillor Wentai. She leant right up against John again as they walked together, her shoulder and breast pressed against his upper arm as she shouted in his ear again. "Wentai is the Military Councillor of Athos," she said louder this time and John nodded that he understood.

The mature Athosian man's eyes lifted from the flowering plant with another smile as John and Teyla drew closer to him, but Wentai then simply turned and led the way back towards the open doorway out of the hangar.

"Wentai would like to introduce you to some other Councillors," Teyla shouted, her voice becoming clearer the closer they got to the outside. "Operation Cunning Plan has begun!"

"Great," John shouted back.

And then abruptly they were outside and John's ears started ringing slightly away from the big speakers inside. Wentai was leading the way ahead, heading towards the other hangar opposite, but then angled off to the right where John noticed a collection of tables and chairs in the distance, all fully occupied. There were a decent number of people sitting in deep conversation and some stood around, drinks clearly in hand, but this looked more like your professional types gathered at the party.

There were also a subtle number of guards standing sentry around the seating area.

These would be the Military Councillors then, though John had met a couple before, they were still somewhat intimidating to be heading towards. But, this was why he was here – to represent Atlantis and Earth and get 'Operation Cunning Plan' underway.

Teyla leant closer to him again, not pressing up to him this time as there was no need to shout, but she was still close and her hand remained on his arm.

"Wentai and I are also going to introduce you to some others sat up ahead," Teyla reported, but with little detail.

"Who are they?" John asked, looking away from the tables and military figures to look down at his lovely Elite wife walking beside him.

She smiled up at him. "The majority of the Military Fleet Commanders," she answered.

John almost stopped. The commanders in charge of the big starships that made up the Military Fleet? He'd seem some of them before, but not been introduced to them face-to-face.

These were the people in charge of those big scary weapons that could burn up a planet's atmosphere without leaving orbit!

Whoa.

"The Colonels and General O'Neill are going to be _very_ happy about this," John muttered.

As long as he didn't mess it up.

"I imagine so," Teyla agreed. "Do not try to impress these people, speak with them as you would a fellow and highly experienced warrior."

John nodded, not at all nervous! "Sure," he was certain he was starting to sweat. "Can I ask one thing though?" He looked down at her.

"Of course," Teyla replied, her hand still on his arm.

"Can I put this plant down somewhere before I meet all these big important people?" John asked her.

She laughed at that. "Yes," she smiled. "We have a table reserved for us up ahead," she indicated the seating they were fast approaching.

John pushed out a nervous breath. He could do this. He had faced Wraith, flown alien ships, and had even turned into an Iratus Bug Man. He could talk to some of the most important military figures in the Alliance. Sure he could.

"I can do this," John told himself.

"Of course you can," Teyla said at his side, her hand squeezing his arm. "I am right here with you."

He smiled at her, at her dark and beautiful eyes, and immediately felt better.

"Together," he echoed from their conversation earlier.

She smiled back, "Together."

00000 _  
_TBC


	21. Facing the Future

00000

 **Chapter 21 – Facing the Future**

 _Atlantis_

It was definitely night-time in Atlantis now, the shift outside his door clearly quieter, the smaller number of staff padding around more carefully so as not to wake their resident patients.

Carson watched that other world out through the open door to his room, looking into his former life. Though, it was more like looking into a parallel world - a place that he could observe but was no longer a part.

His arm was hurting again, the pain dull but almost constant now. Jennifer had reminded him about the physiotherapist's advice and that he should start to exercise the healing limb more, but he hadn't taken in anything that the Physio had told him during her visit yesterday. The Physio had meant well, but he had simply nodded along, copied a few hand movements she wanted him to practice, but he hadn't done them since.

He preferred the pain.

Clearly that wasn't helpful, but he couldn't seem to care.

Jennifer had wanted him to get out of bed this evening, and had told him, almost sternly, that he was not helping his recovery, that his legs were fine. He'd told her he was tired, and it hadn't been a lie.

He was too tired to move, too tired to cry, and too tired to even sleep.

Perhaps the pain killers would be the best answer. A few too many...

He closed his eyes, pushing away such ugly thoughts.

" _He's not okay, Doc_ " General O'Neill's words had been echoing through his head in the hours since. They repeated around and around, pushing at him, but he couldn't seem to do anything about them.

He could hear the screams from his nightmare easily enough though. Marie screaming in the darkness of fire and death Carson had forced on her.

Perhaps he was going mad; perhaps he was half dead and only partly in the world of the living that moved around outside his door.

A lifetime ago those outside his door had followed his orders – the shift pattern they were following in the Infirmary was of his design, their rotas and assignments had been organised by him, and now here he was just listening and watching their shadows pass across the ceiling of flashing lights above him.

He lowered his gaze to the stark medical bedding covering him. The rectangle of light across his blankets was the portal through to his former life, and through it the passing shapes of his former staff. People he had helped train, listened to their problems and helped when he could.

He didn't deserve to walk through that doorway and join them again after what he had done, without Marie out there.

A Doctor nourished and supported life; he didn't destroy and ruin it as he had done.

A large shadow slid into the rectangle of light across the blanket, blocking out most of it.

Carson blinked and looked up at the large figure filling his doorway.

It was a man Carson had never seen before. He was big, very big, and with the light of the Infirmary behind him, Carson couldn't make out any details of the unknown presence.

Carson's heart jumped in fear.

"Doctor Beckett?" The man asked, his voice deep and seeming to echo through the small room around Carson.

Was it Death come to claim him? Or judgement taken human form?

Carson blinked at the stupid idea.

"Yes," Carson replied, his voice stronger than he'd expected.

The man moved into the room, letting in enough light now to show dark skin and a muscular body.

Carson watched in silence as the man stalked into his room.

Should he call for help?

Did he want help?

"My name is Massa," the man stated as he slowly approached, moving down the left side of Carson's bed. "I am an Elite."

Carson relaxed a little. The Elite were good people.

"Oh," Carson managed to reply. He licked his dry and nervous lips. "Pleased to meet you."

"Honoured Elite Emmagan told me of your injuries," Massa stated, his voice softer now he was closer, but the sheer intense presence of the man wasn't any softer.

He was not just tall and strong in body, but there was something intimidating about him – a raw power that Carson had felt around other Elite he'd met before.

Carson glanced down at Massa's waist, looking for any weapons without thinking, but there weren't any. There were empty holsters, but nothing in them and nothing else that appeared threatening, but Carson still felt nervous.

Massa reached the side of Carson's bed, standing directly level with Carson, the light from the Infirmary glowing over his features and over the bare dark arm he laid on the metal railing that ran along the edge of Carson's bed.

Carson's eyes dropped to the arm and then away again, the lines of scars from multiple surgeries obvious on the limb.

"I am no longer able to fight alongside my Elite kin," Massa stated. "This injury," his arm moved faintly, drawing Carson's eyes back to it, "was cut deep by my greatest enemy and took the full use of my limb."

Carson nodded with understanding. Judging the scars with a surgeon's eye, Carson assessed the extent of the likely damage – severed tendons and damaged bone, perhaps cut blood vessels. It would be the nerve and tendon damage that would be the most lasting.

"The woman who injured me," Massa continued his strange introduction, "was Iketani. I believe you met her?"

"Yes," Carson answered, the memories floating to the surface. "She kidnapped me, held me hostage."

Massa nodded. "You did well to survive her use – most do not."

Carson swallowed. Compared to his current situation, those days as Iketani' prisoner didn't seem as bad now.

"I challenged her to a fight to the death," Massa stated. "I struck her down for what she had done to me and mine."

The pieces came together in Carson's mind – the arm injury, challenging Iketani to a fatal fight.

Massa nodded faintly. "I see you know my story and what Iketani did to me."

Carson nodded, staring up at the surreal stranger stood at his bedside. "She killed your partner and baby."

"My beloved and our unborn young," Massa nodded, the tone of his voice shifting with clear emotion that Carson was surprised the Elite was showing so openly.

Carson bit on the inside of his lip, his sympathy far too close to the surface, his feelings too raw to hold back his reaction at imagining what this man had gone through.

"She did the worst thing anyone, or anything, could ever do to me," Massa stated, his voice wavering slightly. "She had those murdered whom I should have protected. Killed those I had sworn to protect and love always."

Carson watched the man swallow.

"My beloved and our unborn young gave me a reason to live each day," Massa continued. "This injury," he looked down at his scarred arm still resting along the bed's railing, "I gained it when I was able to strike down Iketani, a hateful creature that knew only deception and evil. I carry these scars with pride."

Carson nodded, his eyes on the healed lines once more.

"I carry them as a sign, and a reminder, that I will do _everything_ I can to ensure that others are saved from betrayal and death. It is a large and unending promise," Massa leant onto the metal railing, the frame creaking slightly with his mass, "I know that, but I will _not_ allow Iketani to destroy me and those around me. That was what she intended. She liked to destroy and break things apart."

Carson nodded, remembering the cruel woman all too well.

"But you," Massa leant in a little closer, "are a healer; you put things back together."

Carson blinked at that description.

"And though you may have failed once," Massa stated, "you have made a promise to save life."

The anger rose suddenly, bubbling up Carson's gullet. "I _should_ have saved them," he correctly, "but I didn't."

"Did you set the explosives that did this to you?" Massa asked, his dark eyes moving across Carson's own scarred and healing burnt skin.

"I should have made everyone else leave," Carson argued, his voice shaking. He realised it was the first time he had actually said that out loud to anyone.

"Were they doing their duty?" Massa asked.

"It doesn't matter," Carson argued hotly, no longer caring that this man was twice his size and an Elite warrior.

"Were they upholding their beliefs, their own promises to protect life?" Massa asked, his tone annoyingly calm and logical.

"I was in _charge_ ," Carson explained, angry at this man's disregard for what he had done wrong. "I made the decision to try to save my patient, but it cost others their lives."

Massa leant closer. "Healer, you cannot save every life."

"I should," Carson spat back, even though he knew the futility of it. "No one should have to suffer if I can stop it."

Massa held his gaze. "Is that what you really believe, Healer?"

"Yes, damn it!" Carson argued. "You may be a warrior, and you may accept that people just die, but not here. Not in _my_ Infirmary, under _my_ care. They were _my_ responsibility."

"Do you really believe that you have that much power?" Massa asked.

"I damn well try," Carson argued. "I do _everything_ I damn well can to _save_ life, not _take_ it."

"Do you believe that to your soul, Healer?" Massa demanded as he leant in real close, but Carson held his ground on the bed, his teeth locked together. Rage that had had no proper outlet for too long, now growled up through him, all focused on the tall dark man leaning right into Carson's face.

"Yes!" Carson shouted with exasperation. "I'm a _Doctor_."

"Then get out of your bed and get to work, _Healer_ ," Massa ordered.

Carson blinked at him.

"You have work to do," Massa said. "An oath to follow and lost lives to honour with your work."

Something shifted inside Carson at the simple logic, and it brought tears instantly to his eyes. He blinked again, his view of Massa swimming as the tears overflowed out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

"Carry your scars, Healer," Massa said softly. "Carry them _proudly_ to remember those who stood with you, to help you save life. Honour them _each_ day with _every_ life you try to save and those you manage to save."

Carson tried to blink the flooding tears away, but it wasn't working so he closed his eyes, hearing himself panting.

But something had changed inside him, as if some part of him had been missing and had only now returned. He didn't know where it had gone, where it had come back from, but he felt like himself again.

"Get to work, Doctor Beckett," Massa's voice floated in again, and this time Carson could hear a smile in the voice. "You have no more time to waste wallowing in your own needs; you have lives to save and lives to honour."

Carson crushed his eyelids tightly shut as he nodded.

He had taken an oath. Marie's sacrifice meant nothing if he just shrivelled away in his bed. She, and the others who had been killed, deserved more from him.

He heard Massa moving away, the man's mission complete.

Carson opened his eyes to see the warrior was already halfway to the door. "Honoured Elite," he called and Massa paused and looked back, the light from outside shining over him as if he were some heavenly sent being.

Perhaps he was.

"Thank you," Carson told him. It didn't seem enough, but it was honest, the most honest thing he had said since the accident.

Massa dipped is head and smiled, the expression softening his face in an instant, and then he strode out of the doorway and disappeared out into the light of the Infirmary.

Carson held still for awhile, the last of his tears rolling down his face as he processed everything that had just happened.

He looked up into the light of the Infirmary outside and then at the dark little room around him that had been his living space these past weeks.

No, it had been his hiding place. He might still need ongoing medical treatment, but he was no help to anyone lying useless in a bed. His brain worked fine and he wasn't going to get any stronger lying here. In fact, he had been growing weaker.

He looked back at the open doorway – the way out. He had friends and colleagues, and future patients, out there.

Marie wouldn't have stood for him to stay lying in the dark. He wasn't going to hide away any longer. There were people who needed him. There was a retrovirus to develop with the Alliance, new medical technologies to share, and a war to win against the Wraith.

He reached out with his working arm and, with a little effort, lowered the railing at the side of the bed. He pushed the white medical bedding down off his legs and carefully worked himself upright. His right arm pulsed with pain inside its protective brace, but he breathed through it as he slowly and carefully worked himself round to sit on the side of the bed, his legs dangling over the edge.

Carefully and slowly, he pushed off the bed and stood on his feet. He did this most days for his daily wash, but this was the first time he had done it by himself.

He could feel the weakness of his legs, feel the atrophied muscles shaking with the effort, but they held him upright.

Moving slowly, he shuffled his complaining legs forward, working his way along to the end of his sick bed. He probably needed some crutches, or more likely a wheelchair for a bit to help him move around, but both those things were outside his current room. Outside the doorway ahead of him.

He could never bring back those who had died because of that explosive tumour and his decision to operate on it against orders, but he could do exactly what Massa had reminded him to do.

He could get back to work, to help save as many lives as he could until one fateful day it would be his turn to depart this life. But, that wasn't today.

He let go of the end of the medical bed and headed, unaided, towards the glowing doorway.

He was Chief Medical Officer of this base, and, yes, it would take weeks and months of rehabilitation, but he would get back to his full duties.

With a long reach and panting breath, he caught hold of the door's frame and stepped through, out into his Infirmary.

As he stepped back into his home once more, heads turned towards him and smiles greeted him.

Marie's might not be among them, but he would never forget her or her smile.

000000

 _Military Base 1570, Alliance Space_

The music roared out across the military personnel, the song familiar and known by all. As a massive organic group, everyone stamped across to the left, stopped, turned, and stomped back to the right, and then repeated. They were a large combined whole, all moving together with steps they had danced together for many years.

Oneakka had been fortunate to attend a good many of these celebrations and he enjoyed each and every one of them. Moving with the whole, he could find some true enjoyment.

The rhythm lifted again and everyone responded by stomping to the left, pausing this time, calling out the chorus of the song together, and then turned and stomped to the right. Swinging hips and bumping shoulders, everyone just lost themselves in the music.

Seifer bumped against Oneakka's back, laughing at something Oneakka couldn't identify, but he didn't mind. You didn't dance in these places and expect not to bump and hustle into each other – it was part of the point. It didn't matter which planet you came from, what rank you were, or even if you were an Elite, everyone danced together in their shared victory. It didn't matter who might have struck the final blow that might win a victory, because every successful strike was dependent upon every single warrior present supporting that moment. They were a combined force, joined in common purpose and success. A victory was celebrated by all involved.

The heavy repetitive drumming section set in, which heralded the approaching end of this particularly popular song, so Oneakka dropped his weight and stamped his feet with the group, losing himself into moving to the rhythm and, as always, he was taken back to his earliest memories.

Dancing had been a big part of his people's festivals, whether they were the annual summer season festivals with the biggest competitive fights, or the smaller full moon celebrations, there had always been dancing. He could vividly remember dancing with his family during the festivals. Though barely high enough to reach their waists, he could remember watching his parents pound their bare feet into the soil of Ugun. He could remember how everyone had shouted, trilled their voices high and lifted their arms high to the sky, drums pounding so loud through the grasses around the festival space that Oneakka could remember it shaking his young breath in his chest.

Despite the grief and the desperate unfairness that all of those who had danced on Ugun were now all dead save him, somehow, it had never dulled his love of dancing. Perhaps it was so ingrained in his Ugun genetics that it remained a way to continue the relive his young memories of being with his people before he had left to grow up as a trainee Elite.

He closed his eyes as the swinging pounding of the drums reached their crescendo, and he could, despite the number of years, still picture his mother's braided hair swinging around her as she twisted in dance. He couldn't remember all the exact details of her face anymore, but he could remember her wide smile. Her teeth showing as she had laughed and lifted up one of his siblings towards the bright Ugun sky.

The music broke, the memory with it, and the following silence lasted only a moment before everyone around him cheered loudly.

Oneakka held still, panting and feeling warm from the dancing, but feeling rejuvenated in a way that only dancing provided him.

He looked up towards the central stage where the two singers were in discussion on what their next piece would be.

He felt good. Life felt good, which was a relief following the last couple of weeks of frustrated internal stress. He'd not admitted to himself that he'd been avoiding returning to the Training Facility because of Seeal, but today had seen the end to all of that foolishness. Despite those who thought otherwise, he'd proven that he was perfectly able to function around Seeal, that in fact they were now friends. He had very few friends outside the Elite ranks, but he was surprised at how pleased he felt to have matters resolved with Seeal.

Pampata was right – he never ran from anything, and he'd proven that again today.

He'd even had his faith in Seeal proven correct again having seen the recording of her fight with the small band of stupid Recruits. She was trustworthy, appeared relatively contented to stay working in the Facility, and they had agreed they were friends and nothing more.

He might have previously considered what might have been had he and Seeal lived different lives, but ultimately he was an Elite. He didn't live in possible futures, he accepted the facts of what was true around him in the present, and did not lose energy, time, and focus thinking what could have been. Elite did not live that way.

This evening he accepted all of that happily and willingly, and it made him feel good.

The next song started up, a decent one, but not one of his favourites. Perhaps it was time to get some refreshment, cool down, and perhaps see how his new friend, Seeal, was surviving.

He suspected he knew where he would find her, if she had not left already. He knew Madesh would look out for her, and that she would try not to cause any trouble, but if there was any, she could handle herself.

No, the problem for her would be to come to somewhere like this not as a watchful security Lead, but as a part of the celebrations. This would be far too relaxed and unstructured for her. He would no doubt find her having made her excuses to stand at the sides of the dance floor, perhaps even go outside. She would probably find someone to talk to out there, someone to analyse and question with her fast and insightful mind. She wouldn't be able to help herself play the Security Lead, held separate from the playful dancing sea filling the building around her.

Oneakka nudged Seifer next to him and indicated that he was heading off to the bar along the far end of the building. Seifer vaguely nodded, but he was too interested in some new dance steps two Satedans were showing him, the three large men shuffling around together. The moves looked like modified katra battle moves. Oneakka would ask Seifer about it later.

Oneakka moved away, sliding between the tight press of dancing bodies. He kept bouncing his shoulders to the rhythm as he made his way through. Some people attempted to get out of his way, but there wasn't much space for that, and it wasn't expected for Elite to be given preferential treatment at these events. He quite liked that he could dance with all the other warriors around him without being a centre of attention. There wasn't the space for such attention.

Well, there was some occasional attention, as two lustful hip thrusting females demonstrated as he passed by them. They tried to show off their bodies as they danced, trying to appear friendly but came across as predatory. He moved on without acknowledging the attempt to stop him.

After a good few more minutes, he came across Si among a large group of female warriors. The large Athosian male was always able to attract female affection like sweet nectar could draw in the beautiful shimmering birds Oneakka remembered on Ugun. As a tiny boy Oneakka had used to leave small droplets of nectar on the tall grasses and sit and wait for the little shimmering birds to hover close by to drink up the offering.

Si noticed him and waved him into the circle of admiring femininity, so Oneakka danced beside Si for a moment, the two bumping shoulders and then one hip before Oneakka moved on, laughing at the antics.

He was definitely feeling warm and thirsty now, but he had reached the end of the dance floor where the bar was set up overhead along the end wall. He made his way along the edge of the dancers to one of the metal ladders that reached up to the narrow plank that provided the limited space in front of the bar. It kept numbers down at the bar while allowing a good view across the vast dance floor while you waited for your drink order.

Though Oneakka didn't ask or expect it, those on the metal ladder immediately deferred to him, stepping down and aside to allow him to go up to the bar first. He accepted the offer as the sign of respect that it was, and climbed up the ladder. He paused on the top rug to wait for his turn to step up to the bar.

Looking down at the dance floor from over six feet up gave him a good view as he scanned the far corner of the dancing. He'd last seen Seeal and Madesh down that end near the entrance, and he scanned the few standing at the edges of the room, expecting Seeal to be there. Madesh would probably stick with her, not wanting her to be alone, as it was clear the two had formed their own friendship.

Madesh always enjoyed these celebrations and Oneakka remembered with a smile the first time he'd brought Madesh to one. Madesh had still been quite withdrawn and desperate to prove himself, yet also fearful that he would be rejected by others. Instead, Madesh had found himself one of many, accepted without question as he had played a part in the victory the celebration had been commemorating. He'd danced for hours and had smiled happily.

The taste of freedom and common purpose did that to people.

But, Oneakka couldn't see Seeal or Madesh at the far corner of the room, but the space in front of the bar opened up and Oneakka stepped up off the ladder and onto the plank space. He moved a few metres along the plank and picked a spot against the bar where he had an improved view down over the dance floor.

Now he could recognise more faces across the dancing, most being Sythus crew, and spotted Madesh among them.

And next to him, Seeal.

Dancing.

Oneakka froze, shocked to see her not only part of the dancing, but that she was grinning and moving to the music.

Seeal, Madesh, and the Lead Engineer Ru were lined up together as the two males took her through the specific dance moves to the current song. It involved swaying from one side and then the other, turning and repeating through the verse of the song. The three of them turned together, swayed together.

She was smiling – her face bright and flushed with clear enjoyment.

The chorus hit and everyone began swinging their hips and grinding their bodies down to then jump up together with a shout.

Seeal, despite his expectations of her being reserved and disapproving of all this, instead swung her body and twisted her hips as she joined in.

She had a good sense of rhythm.

Her body moved with the music easily, flowing and flexing in a supple eagerness.

She was grinning, the happiest he'd ever seen her.

His Raven was flying free.

Free to move like only a woman could, and one clearly contented in her body. Her supple, flowing body, dancing as naturally as he did when he danced.

The compulsion to join her was sudden. To dance up close with her, bodies moving together-

And it shattered through his so recently gained peace with their friendship.

Did she have to move like that? So enticingly, so naturally, so –

A man appeared into Oneakka's view of Seeal, the unknown man dancing beside her, clearly appreciating Seeal's moves and looking for her attention. Oneakka fixed his entire attention on the man's face.

"ONEAKKA!" The shout of his name was sudden and loud at his side, and it snapped his attention away from the view below.

He snapped his head round as a hand landed on his arm.

Nalla stood beside him on the platform, her eyes wide and her whole appearance shouting desperate urgency.

She had come out of nowhere. She'd apparently decided to stay on the Sythus this evening with Halling. Though, Si had said she might join them.

"What?" Oneakka asked, worried her alarm might be because she'd sensed some wrong emotions in him while he'd been distracted watching the dancing below.

"I need you come with me now!" She shouted through the music, indicating the exit far behind her. "Please!"

He saw instantly that this had nothing to do with his distraction, but something else far more important. He had no idea what it was, but he trusted Nalla and what might be levels of panic in her expression made him agree without any further explanation.

He nodded immediately. "Do we need to get the others?" He shouted to her.

"No," she shook her head forcefully. "Just you," she ordered and turned away, leading the way along the length of the narrow space along the bar.

Oneakka followed her without any further questions. He couldn't remember seeing her like this before, but he recognised proper urgency when he saw it, and he trusted Nalla without question.

So, the music blaring around them, he followed Nalla quickly, the bar patrons leaning almost over the bar to make space for him and Nalla to pass by.

As Oneakka followed, he looked down into the dancing crowd again as he passed level with where Seeal was dancing below.

The eager man dancing far too close to Seeal was gone, so she'd seen him off quickly. Good.

No, not good!

She could do what she wanted – she was just his friend.

But as he passed level with her and Madesh, he was pleased to see that there were only familiar Sythus faces dancing around her now.

Though, as he passed by them, Oneakka couldn't help study the faces around her and saw the small moment in which Ru, the Sythus' Lead Engineer, glanced down Seeal as she swung her hips.

Oneakka fixed his eyes on the usually quiet Engineer's face and, despite the flashing coloured lights moving across the crowd, Oneakka could see that Ru looked at nothing but Seeal.

Oneakka made himself look away, back towards Nalla's retreating back and the approaching end of the bar.

All that mattered was what was worrying Nalla so much.

Elite duties were all that mattered – to live in the present, not for maybes and what ifs.

Nalla jumped off the end of the platform ahead, ignoring the available ladder, and glanced back at him briefly before she continued on towards the far exit. At the end of the platform, he leaped down and lengthened his stride to catch up with her just as she reached the exit.

Abruptly out in the cool air outside, he fell into step with Nalla as they strode at speed towards the Portal.

"What's up?" He asked her as he checked his stunners, wishing he had more weaponry with him.

"I will tell you everything once we are back aboard the Sythus," Nalla replied tersely.

Which meant this was something high priority and not for other ears.

He nodded and matched her step for step to the Portal.

He knew Madesh would ensure Seeal returned to the Training Facility safely...not that she couldn't take care of herself.

And it was up to her if she wanted to go back to her quarters alone. It was none of his business.

In no time he and Nalla reached the Portal, a guard noticing their approach and began dialling the Portal. Nalla must have briefed them before she left the Portal, which clearly meant she wanted no delay in getting back to the Sythus.

The wormhole activated while they were a few steps away from its reach, and as it snapped into place, it was perfectly timed for him and Nalla to stride straight into its watery grip without breaking step.

They emerged out on a rather non-descript world but Oneakka recognised it as the planet closest to the space dock which held the Sythus still under repair. One of the Sythus' Transport craft sat on the flat ground near the Portal. The guards on sentry duty nodded politely as he and Nalla moved quickly towards the Transport.

In short minutes they were onboard and the pilot had the engines fired and moving the second the hatch slid shut.

Whatever was wrong, Nalla clearly was keeping to her promise to say nothing until they reached the Sythus, so Oneakka settled into his seat with as much patience as he could muster.

He watched out the front view past the pilot's shoulder as the Transport left the planet's atmosphere, the space dock hanging in the distance against the black of space, the points of stars like eyes shining across the heavens beyond.

Ru' hungry eyes and expression returned to Oneakka's mind's eye.

He looked away from the view with a grunt, annoyed with himself.

It was good that a mission had arrived out of nowhere. He clearly needed the distraction.

In short minutes, the space dock filled the view outside and the pilot navigated the Transport through a small entrance that allowed vessels in and out of the dock. The Sythus hung inside, her bay open at the back. The Transport slid home, landing gently in the surprisingly empty bay, but then most of the crew were at the celebration.

Nalla had the side hatch open in an instant and was out in a flash. Oneakka followed, pleased that he saw no indication that there was anything immediately wrong with the Sythus itself. No alarms were blaring and nothing appeared out of place.

Except for Nalla's urgency and silence.

He followed her across the empty bay, one lone technician moving in to oversee the Transport's maintenance with the pilot.

Being back on the Sythus felt good, the smells surrounding Oneakka equating with the familiarity of home. He took it all in as he followed Nalla across the bay, through the main doors and into the corridor outside.

Once there, Nalla finally pulled up, the bay doors sliding shut behind them, leaving them alone in the silent corridor. Oneakka paused at her side.

She consulted a wall panel, checking on the status of the Sythus. He watched her scan for readings, looking at where the few crew onboard were registered within the ship, and she then checked in with the limited staff up in Central Station.

Once she had finished speaking with Central Station and the channel deactivated, Oneakka frowned at her. She had checked in with a security staff member in charge of Central Station.

"Shouldn't Halling be on duty in Central Station?" He asked her. It was standard practice for at least one Elite warrior to be on duty in Central Station, even when in dock. That was why Halling and Nalla had remained on the ship these past weeks.

Nalla turned to face him directly, the first time since she had found him at the celebrations.

She sighed. "This is about Halling," she stated.

Oneakka was taken back for a beat. He'd expected her to tell him about some mission, some new Wraith intell, or that perhaps some new slug creatures had been found on the Sythus despite the clean sweep.

But he took in her comment, faced her directly and waited for more information. She had selected a strange place to have this discussion, but clearly had wanted to have it immediately outside the bay. There were so few crew on the ship right now that this corridor was a private as anywhere. The scan she had just undertaken had shown no crew nearby except the two inside the transport bay. Still, that she had wanted to talk the instant they left they bay was as telling as her clear concern.

"I haven't heard much from Halling," Oneakka realised. He'd been too caught up in his own issues, but he remembered that Halling had seemed distracted during the mission to the Nest System.

Nalla nodded as she rubbed her purple forehead. "I am not surprised." She turned and paced away a few steps. Oneakka had never seen her this unnerved.

"What is going on?" He asked directly.

She sighed again and then turned to face him. "You know that, given my abilities to read the emotions of everyone around me, that I keep a strong code of confidentiality."

Oneakka nodded. It was true enough and, despite the annoyance sometimes of knowing that Nalla knew everything he might be feeling, he had quite liked the open honesty of it. When he had been so drawn to her before, she had known from the start and though she had never returned the interest, she had treated him respectfully since.

She was also the only one who knew his conflicted feelings regarding Seeal, and had mentioned it to him before. She had even joked that his feelings for her had been replaced with his attraction to Seeal. He hadn't wanted to hear about it at the time, but he knew the truth of it now.

He blinked and focused his attention on her.

"Yes, even when we would prefer you don't know what's going on, we all know you keep what you sense private," he confirmed to her.

She nodded, but didn't look any less distressed. "I would never breach a confidence unless I felt it was of utmost importance."

He shifted his stance, pieces coming together. "You're worried about something you've sensed from Halling," he concluded.

She nodded and appeared relieved, as if not saying the words out loud herself reduced her burden.

"Have you spoken to him about it?" Oneakka asked.

"Yes, he will not acknowledge there is anything wrong," Nalla said, almost angrily, which was a rare emotion to see on her.

"But you can't ignore it," he summarised.

Nalla looked up at him with raw violet eyes, her own displayed feelings almost shocking. "I have to tell someone. Halling trusts you more than anyone else in this universe."

"Then tell me," Oneakka gave her the permission she needed. "And it will go no further than us."

She nodded and then glanced away. "Since before the victory in the Nest System something has been worrying at him," she started.

"I noticed too."

"But, it has been growing inside him, and these past weeks on the Sythus in dock, he has become almost obsessed in researching something. He won't tell me what, but the hours he spends in his quarters have increased, to the point that he does nothing but go to the gym once a day, has one shift on Central Station, and shuts himself away in his quarters for the rest." Nalla began pacing. "I have tried to ask him directly what is wrong, but he will not tell me. He appears in control, though tired, but inside...

"Inside there is pain, fear and..." she looked away. "I have felt these feelings before in people, Oneakka. And they have only ever heralded someone...someone ensuring their own end."

Oneakka shook his head instantly. "Halling would never harm himself, Nalla."

"I thought the same," Nalla moved closer. "But, what he is feeling, it is only getting worse, Oneakka. I can barely sleep now near what he is feeling. The turmoil, the despair-"

Oneakka reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension vibrating through her. "I will speak with him."

"Now?" Nalla pushed.

"Now," he confirmed. "Where is he?"

"Where he always is, his quarters," she replied and he could feel her body relax slightly under his hands.

"I will find out what this is about, I promise," he reassured her.

She nodded. "I need to return to duty in Central Station, but if you need me-"

He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. "I'll contact you," he promised.

And then he turned away from her and headed down the corridor. With each step though, the confidence he had shown Nalla began to crumble and his own fears rose.

He should have noticed something was wrong with Halling's silence these past weeks, but he'd been so distracted, lost in his own issues that he'd missed his closest friend's suffering.

Angry, worried, and determined, he strode through the corridors, into a transport and out on the habitation floor. He made it to Halling's door in record time and triggered the call to Halling inside.

There was no answer.

Oneakka's heart began pounding in his chest.

He could be asleep.

Oneakka pressed the call button again.

And then pulled off the panel roughly and began digging round the wires inside to break in himself.

Except, the door opened.

Oneakka looked up in relief.

Halling frowned at him from the other side of the doorway. "Oneakka? Why are you here?"

Oneakka assessed his friend in seconds, calling upon not only decades of friendship, but also his own skills of reading people.

Halling looked drawn as if he had lost weight in the last weeks, but otherwise was well kept and presentable. Not the image of someone thinking the worst.

Oneakka returned the panel to its place on the wall. "I need to speak with you, now," he stated.

"Come in," Halling stepped aside.

Oneakka entered Halling's quarters, as he had hundreds of times, and ran his eyes over everything inside. Everything looked in its usual place, the place look clean and the air smelt of its usual Athosian incense. The only difference was that the low table by the sofa was stacked with piles of electronic pads and there were two computer tablets set on the edge, appearing as if Halling had just been working on them.

Nalla had said Halling had been obsessively researching something.

Oneakka headed to the table. "What are you researching?" He asked directly.

"Do you want some tea?" Halling asked, clearly avoiding the question.

So Oneakka picked up a pile of pads and looked through their displays. Several were tactical readings from various Fleet ships involved in the Nest Battle, various reports from the border satellites, and the very latest reports out of the Mad Moon. Nothing all that unusual. But, why was he studying it all in such detail? There were analysts working on all this all the time.

"Tea?" Halling prompted again.

"You Athosians and your tea," Oneakka muttered as he dropped the pads back onto the table and faced his friend. "What is going on with you?" He asked directly.

Halling had moved back round to his former seat on the sofa, which put him on the other side of the table from Oneakka, and he reached for his half drunk cup of tea as he sat back down.

Did people thinking deadly thoughts sit around and drink tea?

"What do you mean?" Halling asked as he sipped his tea, but Oneakka knew his friend and recognised the attempts to delay answering.

"Something has been bothering you for weeks," Oneakka stated, "It's gotten Nalla so worried that she called me out of the celebration to come and talk to you."

Halling glanced away towards his closed door and frowned. "I told her I was fine."

"You know can't lie to her," Oneakka reminded him. "I can see something's wrong. What is it?"

Halling lowered his gaze to the pads on the table and he began re-stacking the pile Oneakka had looked through. "I'm working on some research that is all."

Worry ate at Oneakka's insides. He sat down in the chair opposite Halling – the old wooden chair that Halling had carved himself years ago. It was where Oneakka always sat when in Halling's quarters, and today he set himself onto the chair's edge, his eyes fixed on his friend.

"After all we've been through together," he said as calmly as he could, "all the battles, protecting each other's backs; what we went through over Methren; you're going to start to lie to me now?"

Halling's expression twitched and Oneakka knew he had hit the mark. Of all the things in this universe he could trust, he could trust the bond between them. They had been through too much together over too many years. There was no one Oneakka could trust to believe him, argue with him, and protect him like Halling.

"I would never lie to you," Halling replied quietly, but his gaze remained low, clearly avoiding eye contact.

"Then tell me what is wrong, Halling," Oneakka pushed, hearing the desperation in his own voice.

Halling sighed. "It is not your burden to bear."

"Of course it is," Oneakka disagreed angrily. "Whatever it is, we will shoulder it together. As we have always done."

Halling sighed and sat back on the sofa, his face now pale and drawn, all attempts to control his expression abandoned.

Oneakka knew then that Nalla had not been exaggerating. Whatever it was, it was overwhelming Halling.

"Tell me," he pushed.

"This may not be something we can fight, Oneakka," Halling whispered.

"I don't believe that," Oneakka stated. "Are you ill?" He asked.

"No," Halling replied quickly. "It's not that."

"What is it?"

Another heavy sigh was his answer, but he saw that Halling was ready to share, so Oneakka kept quiet, his entire being focused on his beloved friend. Whatever it was, they would face it together and win. They always did.

"It is something that Sitayi has shared with me," Halling began, his voice low. "She believes that an ancient enemy has returned and that they are amassing their forces somewhere unseen. Soon they will reveal themselves and it could be the end of all life in this galaxy."

Oneakka felt a chill run across his skin. Sitayi' gift was never wrong.

"Then we'll face it together," he stated.

But Halling wasn't finished.

"She said there is a chance that there will be a future in which we can stop them, but otherwise they _will_ win. They will kill all of us, and that the first to die, very soon, will be me."

00000  
TBC


	22. Epilogue

**Note:** Whew! This Interlude is now complete with this chapter. Thank you so much to all those who have read so far into this saga of fics. I hope the stories continue to be enjoyable. This now means that I am able to start writing the next big fic of this series, which will bring together various elements I've been building through the fics. I'm so looking forward to sharing it with you all.

 **Note2:** Also, a shout out to those who review as guests on the site and to whom I can't reply directly, thank you so much for reading :)

00000

 **Chapter 22 - Epilogue**

 _Just Outside Alliance Territory_

The wait in the antechamber had been longer than expected, but Long Sleep had remained patient during the wait to be received by his new Queen.

The other leaders were not quite as patient, some of them pacing and some complaining to each other about issues Long Sleep didn't care about.

Long Sleep ignored them and continued to ponder over his list of unanswered questions. How had this new Queen been recreated by mixing the lineages? Was there new genetic technology and techniques that he was unaware of and could now learn?

What were the new drive pods and what was this dangerous radiation they were emitting? What did the new drive actually do?

Why did the Hive dislike the new drive pods? Why did the Queen not care about the Hive's response?

Unless, the pods were adapted alien technology and perhaps that was why the Hive disliked it?

If so, where was it from? Could it be altered somehow to work more closely with the Hive? Perhaps the new radiation could be contained more effectively.

The webbing across an opening slid aside and the Hive Primary entered, three new gathering Leaders behind him. The delay to meet the Queen was presumably due to their Cruisers later arrival. The Signal had drawn in so many.

Long Sleep felt the faint mix of responses in the minds of the other waiting Leaders. There was pleasure at the extra strength in numbers, but also a touch of jealousy – more warriors to serve their new Great Queen was good, but it also set up rivalry in pleasing the Queen.

Long Sleep ignored it all, but watched as the Hive Primary stood in front of them all, clearly enjoying the fact that he had chosen to keep them all waiting. As Hive Primary, he had unlimited and direct access to the Great Queen, and all other drones, warriors and Cruiser Leaders among them, would follow his lead under the orders of the Queen.

"Your new Great Queen will now receive you," the Hive Primary announced with great relish.

All attention fixed him.

"Once inside the Audience Chamber, you will kneel and keep your eyes lowered," the Hive Primary stated. "Our Great Queen, due to her mixed lineage, does not appear as most Queens, so she will remain concealed, but, as you will feel in her powerful mind, she is healthy and strong."

Long Sleep, along with all the other leaders, inclined his head in agreement, promising not in any way to insult his new Queen.

The Hive Primary gestured towards the closed doorway through to the Audience Chamber and the webbing slid aside willingly, allowing them entrance.

Long Sleep was closest to the opening and so followed the Hive Primary's gesture, and was the first to lead the way inside the Chamber, the others following him silently.

The inner chamber smelt of deep organics and misty contentment.

Long Sleep could instantly feel his new Queen's presence, her mind filling the chamber even while she was not actively focusing on anyone in particular.

He had never felt such power before.

To the right, the usual throne area was concealed behind a thin screen of hanging membrane, but there was the unmistakeable shape of a figure sat upon the throne.

Long Sleep quickly focused his eyes downwards, pausing in the middle of the chamber, turning towards the throne, and then knelt down to the floor, lowering his head and shoulders before the Great Queen.

The others had filed in behind him and now knelt in lines beside him and behind him, all silent, their minds full of awe.

Once all were in place, the chamber fell silent, and Long Sleep felt the Queen's mind shift, reaching out to investigate them all. He felt her touch graze against his mind like the softest touch of fingertips.

It was almost enough to make him pass out.

Her presence filled that empty aching place inside which had been desperate without a Queen to serve. He heard the others around him hiss in delight and acquiescence.

Long Sleep opened his mind to his new Queen, offering himself, his Cruiser, and all his gathering's warriors to her service.

An unmistakeable hiss echoed out from the other side of the membrane – the Great Queen was pleased with all the Leaders' offerings.

" _Do you promise to serve?"_ her voice suddenly arrived, not through the air, but vibrating through Long Sleep's head.

He lowered his head further, overcome with the sensation of her power, her essence filling his mind and being.

"Yes," he swore to her, the others singing the same around him.

" _Do you promise to do all you can to bring destruction upon the enemy?"_ Her mind voice asked loudly inside Long Sleep's head.

"Yes," Long Sleep promised her.

" _Will you serve me in anything I ask?_ " She asked, the membrane between her and Long Sleep and his fellow Cruiser Leaders rippled slightly in the misty air, as if her question was so powerful that the air itself moved in her presence.

And well it should, for this was the promise that locked all Wraith to their Queen, through which they gave over their will and their futures.

"I will," Long Sleep promised, the others repeating the words over and over next to him.

Finally a Queen this strong would be able to strike back against the Armoured Herd, to tear back territory and reduce the human cattle back to acceptable numbers once more.

Revenge would be theirs and the new Great Queen would lead them all to that bright victory, the image of which shone in Long Sleep's mind so powerfully that it perhaps came from the Queen herself.

" _Good,"_ her mind echoed with obvious and delighted pleasure. " _For soon, we will strike, and they will never see us coming._ "

And then she laughed, the sound full of aggressive power and delight as it rattled through Long Sleep's head.

"Yes," everyone around him hissed, the delight and promises chorusing in with her laughter.

The strange sound grated through Long Sleep's skull though. Perhaps it was her power.

A forceful push from inside had him lowering his body further towards the floor. He dipped lowered, aware of the others doing the same around him as they continued to hiss their promises.

Long Sleep tried to surrender to it, but oddly, as her power rose to even more blinding heights, it seemed only to become stranger. Her laughter continued with it, manic and seemingly overwhelming in his head.

He opened his eyes and blinked down at the mist coated floor only inches from his nose. There was a strange smell in the air, something he hadn't quite processed as he had entered the chamber, but it filled his nostrils now, filling his head almost as much as her roaring mind's laughter.

It didn't feel right, not at all.

Long Sleep turned his head, looking at the Leaders knelt beside him, but all he saw on their faces was surrendered pleasure as they accepted the Queen's mind with willing devotion.

But it was such a strange mind, immense in ways he had never experienced, but also...it felt...almost...unlike a Wraith.

He quickly shut those thoughts away, controlling them all tightly inside as he had always been able to do with his fast thoughts. He wrapped them up deep inside, away from where even his previous Queens had been unable to venture.

But would he be able to hide these thoughts from this new Queen who had such unfettered power?

He dropped his eyes to the floor beneath his nose again and pushed his traitorous thoughts even deeper.

And then waited.

Her laughter had started to reduce. Her hiss of continued pleasure could be heard beyond the stirring membrane curtain.

He couldn't sense any concern about him, no immediate signs that his thoughts had been detected and that punishment, perhaps death, might follow.

He cleared his mind, shining across it the simple prospect of vengeance against the Armoured Herd. Hopefully that would please her enough. The other minds in the Chamber clearly had believed everything from her, surrendering to her strange spell willingly.

Long Sleep lifted his eyes from the floor, lifting his head a fraction to be able to peer through the thin screen ahead of him.

As the Queen's laughter finally stopped, he could see the shape of her on the throne; he saw her lift a hand to her head as if she were pushing some hair back into place.

He held still, his breath fast.

Had her limb seemed oddly long?

He could almost believe that her equally long hand had held only three fingers.

Like the new drive pods on the Hive, this new Queen appeared to be something different.

Something alien.

If so, then what was she?

And what was she going to do with her new Hive and its packed numbers of blindly willing followers?

What had he done?

0000000  
THE END


End file.
